You mean to me the galaxy
by shaadiaThePrincessOfWeird
Summary: There was no one in the galaxy Jyn Erso trusted more than Cassian Andor and Bodhi Rook. Now, a few years after the suicide mission to carry her father's dying wishes, that trust is still as strong as kyber, and the Galactic Empire is that much closer to defeat. Through Hoth, Endor and the aftermath of everything.
1. All the Galaxy Offers

It's strange how you can go from wanting to kill someone to wanting to kiss them.

These were Jyn's thoughts as the monstrous, heavy-bellied cargo shuttle sprayed a pathetic off-white to mask its various dents that was badly in need of service swooped down gracelessly above the rocky headland while red blasterfire from two blocks behind dentured it even more.

Red blasterfire whizzed over and past her head. Her pursuers had got momentarily distracted by the sudden appearance of aircraft. _Momentarily_.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Bodhi was at the open hatch, clinging to the frame with white knuckles and shouting frantically, panic as apparent as always. She understood now why their pilot wasn't the one flying the ship- he had a bad arm and a swath of bandages wrapped around his head. He was going to get himself killed if Kay didn't up his pickup game.

Another pair of arms yanked the compromised pilot back from the hatch before himself appearing, cursing viciously in his native tongue as he tried to fling a piton cord down at where she restlessly darted from foot to foot.

Blasterfire. Close enough to cuff her ear and send searing pain through to her head. Blasterfire on the rocks. Towards the sea. Whistling with the wind. Their aim was this bad only because she was well concealed by the distance, but the 'trooper army was closing that distance.

The chord ended just short of her maximum tiptoe-height. She'd have to jump and cling on, and in the process give the 'troopers a better-than-clear shot.

Kaytoo wasn't maneuvering the damn shuttle well enough, or maybe it was the shuttle's lack of capability itself. Bodhi was still panicking. Cassian was shouting at her to make the leap.

Was he _mad?_

 _Kriff this._

She jumped and missed the dangling cord the first time. Her ankle sprained upon landing. She grunted and jumped again, managing to latch onto the hot, friction-filled length of thin rope.

The 'troopers had a clear shot.

She shut her eyes and turned to a side, cursing in her thoughts and not wanting to _see_ the blaster bolt that would get her.

It didn't get her.

The cord reeled itself in with unexpected and astonishing speed, cutting the length of her arm with its friction but zipping her to safety before a bolt got her. She tumbled painfully onto the shuttle's cheap plastic tiles and heard the _whiz_ of the hatch shutting just over her head. The sound of blasters firing was suddenly faint, as were the wind and the sea and the frightening turbulence.

Jyn breathed faster than she had in a while. Another near death. Another mad escape.

Two faces looked down at her from a short height, one wearing obvious concern and the other a mask of rational calm.

"Are you _okay?_ " Bodhi gushed, grabbing her hand and squeezing tightly. "Breathe, Jyn, breathe. Force, I almost thought..."

Jyn shook her head, attempted to say something light. "I'm okay. I need to see Kay, I thought I might kiss him for the sudden appearance."

Bodhi laughed. "He doesn't deserve _all_ the credit."

Cassian inclined his head in a subtle gesture to move aside, and the pilot shuffled further towards her head on his knees whilst carefully setting her hand down.

"Anything bad?" Cassian asked, sounding more like an interrogator than a concerned friend. Then again, that was how he always sounded.

Jyn winced, sitting up with Bodhi's support. She rubbed a finger delicately against her cuffed ear. The burn was fresh and stung. "No, unless this counts as bad?"

Bodhi winced. "It's gone black."

"The troops were virtually blind," Cassian reached out to tweak the lobe experimentally. "This was really as good a shot as they were going to get."

Jyn raised an eyebrow. "And dangling from a piton three feet in the air _wasn't_ a clear shot?"

He may have smiled, may have just sighed. She couldn't tell. "It retracts fast. I wouldn't have lowered it otherwise."

"I didn't know that," said Jyn with a shrug. "But I trust you."

The Captain's eyes seemed to soften a moment, just a moment, and he gently examined the scalding burn on her ear. He met her eyes again before saying, "I'll fetch the medkit," getting to his feet and disappearing into the cheaply designed depths of the cargo ship.

A strange silence settled in the air between them. Perhaps it was the adrenaline wearing off, perhaps it was the cursory look Bodhi was giving her.

She turned to him with a frown. "What?"

The pilot seemed to be fighting back a smile. "He really cares for you, you know."

She looked at him like he was stating the obvious, because he was. "Of course."

The pilot covered a chuckle with a badly coordinated cough, failing horribly to fool her. "Nevermind."

* * *

They constantly found themselves in and out of some of the galaxy's bloodiest situations, extraction missions and bloody run-ins with contacts who suddenly decided to switch sides. They negotiated rebel groups into the Alliance and walked right into the heart of Imperial operations wearing strong but risk-fraught cloaks of identity.

Jyn had signed up for one Intelligence-run first, and when it had proven a successful cover she'd agreed to work with the division on necessary occasions. Bodhi's role in their Intelligence assignments was only because it was requested- any pilot could have done the job, and the reprogrammed droid could fly a ship well enough, but somehow Draven rarely turned the request down- perhaps because arguing with Erso was an impossible and tiring process, perhaps because the results were always better than expected when all or some of Rogue One worked together.

The survivors of Scarif were assigned to a specialized unit, and this was where Jyn worked most of the time. Six of them excluding Cassian, whose job with Intelligence mostly required him to work alone. But whenever he needed a mission partner she signed up for it, and whenever Rogue One needed an extra head he readily volunteered.

The first people to notice the interminable connection between the two were the crew they worked with. They lead the team together and acquired success in task after task, meeting a few blips along the way that they worked together to cover up. They always had each others' backs and trusted the other's judgement implicitly, even if the plan sounded clinically insane as was the case with most of Jyn's ideas. As soldiers and as leaders, they naturally complemented one another.

They were the kind of partnership that yielded results and was idolized by juniors in the ranks. If both of them happened to be on Base at the same time and if one of Chirrut's lessons required volunteers, the crowd would volunteer them without giving either of them a choice in the matter. Whenever it wasn't a lesson and recruits took to their own sparring sessions, a crowd would gather around their match and choose sides, making secret bets as to the outcome of the fight. On Base, they became celebrities in their own right.

Bodhi and Kaytoo were the only ones who really got to witness how well Jyn and Cassian worked together on Intelligence operations, though Bodhi supposed nothing could really cause the droid awe. Cassian would seamlessly slip into the skin of a new or used identity and as his mission partner Jyn would take up a role that came with it, making his alias even more authentic and adding an extra layer of strength. Captain Willix and his aide-de-camp. Joreth Sward and his wife. They would steal classified documents from diligently encrypted servers and swipe data cards out of Imperial pockets. Sometimes Cassian would gain access to the office of an official whose plans the rebellion wanted to know, while Jyn hovered by the door anticipating a threat to provide cover while he made copies of every relevant file. Bodhi remembered the one time he'd got to go about a mission _with_ them instead of _waiting_ for them. Sward and his wife had had to mingle with various members of the business community at a party where opinions and concerns were exchanged regarding the Empire's trade rules and business environment. The party had reached full swing and it came to a point where even Sward, known to the community as a staunch non-drinker, was forced by his friends to chug down a mug of beer. Cassian had swallowed with obvious bitterness like it really was his first time, then spat it all out at once. He'd apologized between violent coughs and had left for the refresher blinking tears from his eyes to the raucous laughter of his peers. Jyn had slipped in alongside him at a distance and left the building without getting noticed. Bodhi, who wasn't supposed to meet them outside for another fifteen minutes, found himself too close to a drunken fight and hurried for the exit early. He kept to the building's looming shadow as he approached them, stealing glances in every direction (there was a reason he was never a player in undercover operations). Cassian dropped his act as soon as they were considerably covered- although from his position Bodhi caught a glimpse- and made inquiries. Jyn responded and asked her own questions. All was going well, and Bodhi was now close enough to have a clear albeit shadowy view, but suddenly-  
Cassian's arms were looped around Jyn's waist and she was pressed flush against him, his chin on her shoulder and mouth on her neck while her fingers tangled in his hair. Bodhi froze on the spot. He thought he should retreat, but somehow his feet were rooted.  
And then one of Sward's associates walked past them, pausing only briefly to flash the couple a look before being on his way and disappearing into the building. They broke apart as soon as the coast was clear and didn't say anything, Cassian tapping his comm to get Bodhi back online. From where he stood watching the pilot blanched. That had been an _act._

He remembered that on the shuttle ride back, Jyn took the copilot's seat and talked casually to him while Kaytoo and his reprogrammer stayed in the back of the ship. The partners didn't speak so much as word to one another during those five hours, but the streak of animosity was over after that.

They went back to being the rebellion's dream duo.

* * *

Chirrut had just finished swiping six rebels off their feet six separate times that day when they'd been challenged to take him by surprise. The only one who'd got anywhere was Skywalker, but the Guardian had whipped around at the last moment with a smile and the declaration, "Not so easily, young one."

It was only too bad that a couple of people had made bets on the jedi being able to do it. People who'd probably never seen Chirrut's very jedi-like skills in action before.

Jyn had the good fortune of arriving on Base once the lessons were over with- she'd otherwise be pulled up for a match with Chirrut and face her third humiliating but gracious defeat at the end of his staff. Baze was keeping to a corner and doing repairs on his repeater cannon- it was the only thing he ever treated with such adoration and care- while his more spiritually inclined friend sat humming a prayer to himself on a nearby training mat. She stepped into the hall to say hello.

Chirrut visibly perked up and turned her way with a warm smile. She pretended not to be unnerved by his detection of her arrival- it wasn't something you got used to, not really. Baze grunted a greeting that she didn't quite manage to catch. By his tone it sounded more like a warning.

"How did the mission go?" Chirrut asked merrily, tapping the ground beside him for her to sit. "I don't suppose there were any major problems since you're coming to see us and not the med droids." His eyes twinkled with good humour.

"He's going to ask you to spar with him if you stick around," Baze repeated his warning clearly.

Chirrut inclined his head in mock disappointment. "You don't want our Star to stick around?"

Jyn allowed herself a small smile at the affectionate term. She wasn't used to taking affection from anyone, but the Guardian had been a calming force and a pillar of support since their first mission and his words, however cryptic and indecipherable, were always comforting and welcome. She sat cross-legged on the mat beside him and fingered the cord of her necklace out of habit.

The slight blur of action drew Baze's attention away from his beloved cannon.

"What happened to your crystal?" he asked with a frown.

Chirrut looked at her expectantly, encouraging a response.

She instinctively caught the crystal and straightened it against her collarbone. The edges around where it had broken were still sharp and unfamiliar.

"It happened two weeks ago. There was a..." She shook her head. "Contact turned bad. Hired a bounty hunter. He couldn't get a clear shot at us, so he took the building down instead. The rubble was bad, but the only actual damage it did was..." She tugged the crystal out of her shirt to show them- well, show Baze, but she was fairly certain that Chirrut wasn't oblivious- the new edges around a crystal half the size of what she previously wore.

Baze looked at the pendant a while and snorted in comprehension. Then, before Chirrut could say anything, he grunted, "Where's the other half, then?"

A strange heat came over Jyn's face, adding a twinge of colour to the normally pale skin, but she dismissed it as nothing. "It's with Cassian."

Baze nodded with an indistinguishable sound and went back to reassembling his cannon, but Chirrut had a knowing and somewhat mischievous smile playing about his lips when he looked at her.

"The Captain wears it as you do?"

"He does," answered Jyn impassively.

Baze snorted. "Careful, little sister. That's the kind of thing that will get people thinking you and Captain Andor are more than simply _partners._ "

* * *

The Battle of Hoth had come with a massive price tag in every aspect but mostly life. Soldiers were in critical condition aboard the evacuating ships, even more had perished on the frozen hell itself- and may the Force be with everyone, Bodhi thought grimly as restlessly paced the sterile corridors of the ship's underequipped medical bay. He had been with the pilots who'd tried and failed to protect the planet's shield generator. He couldn't shake off the nauseating feeling that he should've died in the place of all those others.

Allies. Comrades. Friends. He'd witnessed their deaths in furious explosions of fire and snow and billowing black smoke. He'd never said goodbye to any of them.

And out of everyone who flew those ships. Tried to take down the walkers. Defend the shield generator. _He_ had to live?

Bodhi's mind and body were both broken in a way that no mission of the previous three years had managed. No mission except Scarif. But Scarif had let him live with an artificial arm and suffocating nightmares. Hoth had blown up the rebellion itself in a flurry of violent sparks.

The rebellion wasn't done yet. It couldn't be. And still, in some dark, anxious, frightened corner of his mind, he knew this was the end.

His leg cracked and he screamed against the pain, letting his beaten body go limp and falling to the floor with a sob that grated his throat. He pushed his bruised back against the wall and pulled his fragile legs into a position to sit. He buried his face in his knees and tried his damnest not to cry.

Medical droids busy with personnel in critical condition bustled past him along through corridor, patients restored to slightly acceptable condition were rolled out in stretchers and new patients were taken in. Anybody on the waiting list was seated or lying down behind the doors the medical droids were using. Bodhi was outside. He didn't want anything to do with medbay. He didn't deserve it. He was only hanging around at all because he'd been informed that Jyn- his friend, one of his only living friends- was behind those doors receiving surgery.

 _She_ deserved to live.

He may have stayed like that for minutes or hours. He may have cried quietly for days. His only call back to his senses was the feeling of a rough, calloused hand against his shoulder, that he felt because his flightsuit was torn.

Bodhi appreciated that Cassian managed to look concerned for him. He really did. But there were far greater concerns the other man felt right now.

He scrubbed the tears off with a tattered glove- Jyn's gloves, the pair she'd presented him with after Scarif, after his robotic right arm- and made himself speak words. "Are they safe?"

Cassian regarded him with an unreadable expression for seconds, then dropped the mask and slid down the wall to sit beside him with a frustrated sigh.

"I don't know," he answered of Chirrut and Baze. "I don't know."

Out of the thirty ships that had made it off Hoth, Bodhi knew that fourteen had been destroyed so far. By the looks of it Cassian had just got news of more.

"Three more," he answered grimly, as if hearing the unspoken question. He wasn't meeting his eyes. Bodhi supposed that after a lifetime spent as a spy, hiding and masking and changing, it was unacceptable now to let his emotions be known. He certainly couldn't _hide_ them. Not at a time like this.

They faintly heard the noises of medbay. Buzzing and screeching and sawing.

"Jyn?" Cassian asked, but he couldn't hide the way his voice trembled.

"I don't know," Bodhi dipped his head backwards and forced back tears. Maybe it was obvious. Who cared. He didn't want tears washing down the soot on his face.

Sitting back against the wall, they retreated into their own minds to contemplate what they had left and all they had lost.

They thought of the rebellion. They thought of the possibility that Hoth had been the last straw.

They thought of Chirrut and Baze. If the Guardians weren't still alive, they hoped their deaths hadn't been painful.

They thought of Jyn. Bodhi clenched the leather gloves tightly to keep the tatters from spilling, and Cassian pressed his kyber pendant to his lips.

* * *

Intelligence became more gruelling than ever before. Funding was reduced to almost nothing. The mission runs became dangerous even when a lot of Imperials considered the rebellion crushed and lowered their guard as a result of it. They no longer had the luxury of picking a specific pilot out of many, and so Bodhi found himself swept away from familiar faces in all the ensuing chaos, but he did whatever that was required of him for the rebellion's sake.

It wasn't the end after all.

With every passing day the chances of his survival, the survival of his only remaining teammates, dulled and dimmed. But with every passing day the Alliance regrew, weak at first but then strong, at least strong enough to repel the Empire.

The last he saw of the only survivors of Scarif who'd also made it off Hoth was when they departed with grim faces for an uncertain, risk-fraught and long-term undercover assignment as Willix and his aide, summoned by the Empire to overlook the construction of bases, starships and weapons. Jyn had come looking for him before they set off. They'd embraced and hoped to see each other again. It had sounded like a goodbye more than anything else.

Cassian, knowing the importance of his faith, wished that the Force would be with him.

Several long months he didn't hear of them again. Didn't even catch tidbits about Willix and his aide on Imperial networks, though he supposed that was a good thing and the Empire would surely talk about it if two spies were uncovered so high in the ranks.

Right?

* * *

Bodhi had the miraculous good fortune of being aboard the Alliance's mobile Base when his friends finally did return.

Cassian disappeared into the briefing room without a word of greeting. Jyn attempted a tired smile but did not hug him, and excused herself and retreated into her quarters. He ignored his every natural instinct and went after her.

Bodhi found himself hanging around the door of the cramped space Jyn had been assigned aboard the ship. It provided less breathing space than the common quarters which were often deserted when its occupants were on missions, but the price was a small one to pay for privacy. _Privacy,_ he mused. She probably wanted that right now.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out what had gone wrong. Well, there _were_ innumerable ways in which a long-term undercover operation could go wrong, but one that managed to do _this_ to Jyn Erso?

It was terribly reminiscent of that time right after the escape from Hoth, wishing for Jyn to recover and willing the Guardians to be alive. When Cassian turned up he didn't stop by the door for conversation, though; he proceeded to push it open and walk in, leaving Bodhi an unspoken message to follow.

The room was cramped beyond a degree he thought was possible, and certainly not meant for more than one person at a time. Just to be on the safe side, he left the door open a crack before facing inside and hovering, awkwardly. Cassian sat on the sparse bunk beside Jyn, who looked at them both with half-hearted disapproval.

"Should've knocked," she said.

"Command has heard about it as well," said Cassian, getting directly on subject.

Jyn appeared cynical. "Information like that will just leak? The Empire's really losing its edge. Or maybe they don't care if we know- we aren't exactly in a state to wage war. Not on that thing."

"What thing?" asked Bodhi, darting glances between them. No part of what he was hearing sounded positive. "What have we heard?"

Jyn turned the other way, her expression effectively hidden in the dark. Cassian turned to explain to him, not quite meeting his eyes.

"A Death Star."

Every bone in his body went stiff, every muscle tightened, his joints went cold. He felt the tips of his fingers shivering. Even the edges of his vision jittered.

"That's...that's impossible," he shook his head, told himself over and over that he wasn't hearing this. His mind seemed a separate entity from his body. "It's gone. It was destroyed. All those years ago. Luke...Luke destroyed it. We got the plans. Luke blew it up."

"I know," said Cassian quietly. "This is a second Death Star."

At his words Jyn hauled herself to her feet and raised her balled fists in challenge. "Then what the kriff are we doing here? Why aren't we out there trying to blow it up a _second_ time?" She shook with fury, awkward in the small gap between the bed and the bedside rack. "Tell me we can. Tell me we've rebuilt enough to be able to."

"Jyn," said Cassian calmly. He sounded calmer than he felt and they could tell, because it was a strange, strange look for his normally impassive, trained face.

Jyn's fire winked back into a spark and she sat down, utterly worn. "Chirrut would know what to say," she muttered, the bite gone from her words.

"I know," said Cassian, placing a hand on her shoulder. She inclined herself just slightly. His fingers twitched on her shoulder, but he restrained himself from drawing her into a hug. She didn't need it. She needed to fight.

Bodhi hovered by the doorway, anxious.

Cassian dropped his hand. He sounded back to business when he spoke next. "Command is devising an action plan. They've already called in Solo. Details are sparse as of yet, but I was told we'd need troops on the ground and our best pilots." He looked towards _their_ pilot.

"I'll do it," said Bodhi at once. He was determined. Fearful, but willing with all his heart.

Jyn's face slipped into a mask of unshakeable calm. "I'll join the troops on the ground."

"The Death Star isn't even complete," Cassian informed them. It came as a not unwelcome surprise. "This is the best shot the rebellion's going to get. And besides, where you go, I follow."

A small smile tugged at the edges of her lips. "Partners?" She included Bodhi in her glance.

The pilot let a smile slip and the spy let slip a look of respect at her spirit.

"All the way," he assured them both.

* * *

When the second Death Star, a harrowing phantom of Galen Erso's legacy, exploded in a violent flurry of muted sparks over the skies of Endor, everyone somehow- maybe it was the Force, maybe intuition or maybe just blind hope- knew that the war was almost over.

The destruction of the Empire's ambassador. The culmination of all its evils. Nothing but blocks of debris scattered across the vast expanse of space.

Jyn crawled out of her muddied trench to throw her battered figure on the ground and exhale, wildly, panting and breathing and letting herself believe. The mere fact that she was alive. The fact that the Death Star was _gone._

Ash, blood and sweat blurred her vision. Her left ear wasn't taking in any sound and a screeching ring rattled in the distance. Her head pounded with the outflowing adrenaline. The arm holding a rifle in its crook was indefinitely broken.

But the Death Star no longer hung in the sky over the forest moon.

 _Bodhi,_ she thought. _Please let Bodhi be alive._

It was a frail hope. There was little chance more than a handful of pilots had survived.

She struggled to get to her knees, but fell when they gave way and hit her chin in the foliage. She coughed on the bitter taste of blood and soil. Looked around with blurred vision, ignored the ringing in her ear.

There were no other rebels immediately at hand. There wouldn't be. She'd drawn fire away from a larger contingent by coming here, and only the dead bodies of stormtroopers and a collapsed, half-exploded walker caught in her radius of sight.

The Death Star was gone. The Empire was defeated.

She may have lied there like that for hours. The disturbing lack of input from one ear made time difficult to tell. With her eyes she caught a slight hint of movement from somewhere close by and she hoped it was a group of rebels, and not 'troopers, who were coming for her.

She felt herself being lifted. Lifted carefully, not shot in the head. Rebels, then. She caught tidbits of urgent conversation. Her world went black.

The Death Star, gone for good.

* * *

She found herself waking up beside a crate of explosives and tried to convince herself it was good thing. She sat up too fast, however, and blood rushed fast into her head. She grabbed at her head with both hands and groaned. It hurt worse than normal headaches.

Hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back down with care. Her eyes were open to slits enough to tell it was a familiar face, but not one she'd ever labelled with a name. Blue eyes and side-shaven hair. He was at least two ranks below her present one.

Tidbits of conversation again. Something about lodging for the injured, ewoks and...tree houses?

The blue-eyed rebel shuffled uncomfortably on his feet as he tried to answer a volley of questions fired by someone considerably more senior. Jyn frowned as much as her pounding head allowed. She recognized...

A rough, calloused hand took hers. "I'm here, Jyn."

Her eyes shot open. "You're alive," she breathed, not even hiding her relief.

Cassian smiled tightly. "I'm glad to see you, too. Do you think you can stand? I can get you somewhere more comfortable."

Comfortable. A luxury in the lives they lived. Somehow it didn't sound impossible now, though.

Jyn's eyes fluttered close. "Lift me," she muttered in defiance.

To her surprise and the skip of a heartbeat, she found her battered frame being slowly lifted off the moss-eaten forest floor in the crook of arms that were worn but persistent.

"I didn't mean _actually-_ ," she started with a yelp, but breathed out as the energy left her and dropped it with an exasperated sigh. "Where is more comfortable?" she asked instead.

Cassian was struggling a little with her weight, possibly because his back and his legs were as broken as her rifle arm, but he had the good grace to cover it with a grunt. Jyn felt no sympathy. He'd brought this on himself when he'd taken her words in the literal sense.

He set her down on her feet with measured care when they reached the foot of a massive tree whose full height Jyn didn't bother to comprehend.

"It's not a long climb," he said. "I'll help."

Jyn wanted to say, _Very funny. We're climbing trees on this stupid moon now?_ before she noticed the wooden steps hammered into the side of the bark.

"Oh," she said out aloud.

Cassian waited patiently for her to take the first step. She didn't move.

This feeling was difficult to express. The feeling after a battle that had nearly cost you everything, after you'd convinced yourself at a point that everything you fought for was lost and everyone you cared about was gone.

Cassian looked back at her with the same blank expression.

How did you celebrate the end of a war? A war you'd fought your entire life and never expected to see the end of? A war you had quit your morals for, a cause you had dedicated your existence to seeing accomplished, and having survived up to this point, up to the point you tasted victory but without many of the others who'd taken the journey with you- what were you supposed to do when your cause was accomplished?

"It's over, Cassian," she whispered. More to herself. "It's over."

"I know," he said. He took her hand, meaning to lead her up to the ewoks' lent treehouse, but she didn't move and he didn't resist. He turned to face her and took the other hand that she offered. They stayed like that a while, communicating no words but reading the other well, purposefully ignorant of the many rebels engaged in various tasks around them.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, and nothing masked the emotion in his brown eyes. It struck her like lightning that this was the turbolift on Scarif all over again except they weren't heading into certain death, they weren't about to die for a cause. The war was _over._

His gaze was intent on hers like it had been on Scarif, all those years ago, four, five years before their comfortable partnership, speaking volumes that he wasn't voicing for her ears.

She was keenly aware of the distance- _or lack thereof_ -between them and the curious attention of the rebels working around them.

"What for?" she heard herself ask.

"All the way," said Cassian by way of explanation, and it made sense.

Before he could draw back and continue up the steps, she tightened her fingers around his and pulled his beaten body around hers in loose embrace. He stumbled, straightening his bad leg, but supported her back with his arms, closing his eyes over her shoulder and fighting the tears that threatened to form.

The war was _over_.

* * *

They didn't content themselves with sleep until they got news- _any news_ -of Bodhi Rook's fate.

To survive the first Death Star, to come all this way just do die at victory's doorstep was a tragic predicament their friend didn't deserve. Cassian had other duties, of course; the moon wasn't entirely rid of Imperial troopers and the risk of a delayed counterattack was still too great. He wasn't in a state for combat but he wasn't in critical condition either. Jyn wondered why her name hadn't come up in the roster of duties. It was probably more than lucky coincidence.

Still, it wasn't what she felt like arguing about.

"At least stay till I'm asleep," she scowled, looking extremely unappreciative.

"You're not going to get any sleep," Cassian said plainly. It was the truth.

"If you don't stay, no," she rebuked anyway.

Cassian lingered by the open door for seconds more before relenting with a sigh. He headed over to her bedside- a tatched resting place made of dense foliage, bark and twigs that can't have been too comfortable- and took up a position on the wooden floor beside it.

Jyn raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking so shy about? We've shared worse beds than this."

Cassian huffed restlessly. "We've shared beds out of necessity on missions, Jyn, not when..."

"People are around to get the wrong message?"

He cracked the barest of smiles. "Half the Alliance thinks we're married already thanks to your crystal."

"Thanks to the rumours that Bodhi and Luke circulated, you mean," Jyn tried to look annoyed at the memory but fell short. Her gut clenched horribly. _Bodhi._

"Dumbest thing he ever did," murmured Cassian in agreement, and edged closer to the makeshift bed and laid down beside her, closer.

She studied the patterns on the tatched ceiling instead of him, aware that he was studying her, but allowed it. They were partners, anyway. They had been through the worst times together. She had long ago started to notice that he tried to make his feelings readabe, sometimes, but she never quite managed to acknowledge so much as how _she_ felt about it, about him.

"That's not what happened at all," protested a voice by the door. "Kes was the one who started those rumours and Luke and I just believed them."

Despite her broken arm and fresh wounds Jyn sat bolt upright, saw, and sprinted for him.

" _Ouch,_ " hissed Bodhi as they collided in a fierce embrace. Jyn ignored him completely and tightened her grip. With a weak laugh he held her to him. "I thought I'd never see you again," he admitted softly.

"We're harder to put down than that, you know it," said Jyn with a smile, but there was no humour in her voice. Only relief and a muted sadness. They hadn't lost each other, it was something; but there were many others whom they _had_ seen the last of.

"Even the two of you aren't indestructible," said Bodhi with a weak grin, letting her support his weakened frame by a side.

"Say that again?" asked Cassian in mock offense, appearing by his other side to help.

Bodhi chuckled. "You didn't think I was dead. Did you?"

Cassian pretended not to be surprised. "Something told me you might scrape through. Maybe it was the Force."

Bodhi shook his head. "You have more faith than you let on, Major."

* * *

The end of the war didn't necessarily call for the end of their partnership. There were still mop-up operations and work left to do as their Imperial aliases. But the Empire was weakened without its head, and the risk of life loss during these missions was far less than what they were used to. Most rebels learnt to breathe easy. Bodhi did. Jyn remained guarded. Cassian didn't relax in the slightest.

Months. That was how long it took for some kind of order to come about. High Command had already dictated appointments by then.

These appointments did signify the end of their tenure working together. Or directly together, at any rate.

The rebels left alive after years of fighting the war found adjustment difficult, but eventually they started building their lives from scratch. Kes and Shara had it easiest. Poe was already five years old.

Bodhi had to say goodbye to his good friend Luke when the jedi decided to focus more on his training...and something about bringing up the next generation of his kind. But that could wait.

In the months that followed Command's appointments, Jyn held a position on Coruscant that was mostly for name's sake- she was more frequently back on the field sweeping up whatever remained of the Empire's bases, mines and buildings. She ocassionally met up with Bodhi, who dropped in to help on a voluntary basis. Cassian, not so much except the infrequent comm call.

They had just successfully rounded up a handful of Imperial loyalists making threats to the New Republic that day when they decided kick back with drinks made affordable by Jyn's new position. The Coruscanti bar was among the upper levels and fixed with every luxury imaginable.

"I hate it," said Jyn, picking up her glass to shake it absently and set it down again without so much as a sip.

Bodhi looked over his own glass with understanding. "I can imagine," he said.

They had never lived a life of luxury. Jyn's only experience with anything even close had been over twenty years ago, when she'd been a child and her father had worked among Coruscant's best scientists in a _clean energy_ project for the Empire.

"Hey, er," started Bodhi uneasily, wincing to himself at how difficult it was to bring these words up. He'd practiced in front of a mirror, dammit. But a mirror couldn't replicate Jyn's potentially violent reaction. "Do you think we could...um, I have the ship to myself for the next two weeks, so..."

Jyn pushed aside her glass with obvious disgust and eyed him irritably. "Well, spit it out already."

Bodhi looked around nervously at the dull gold lights, the art on the walls, the glass ceiling and crowded tables. Anywhere but at his friend. "Maybe we could head over to Fest?"

He didn't dare glance to see Jyn's reaction. He wished at once that he could take the words back. But no glass came flying towards him, so he eventually deemed it safe to peek.

Jyn wore an unreadable expression, entirely unreadable, but when she caught him looking it broke into a minute smile. "Of course. Fest is lovely."

Had he just done Cassian a favour or the opposite?

* * *

Their ship was one of the classier models to land on the wide open platform, because surrounding them were utilitarian shuttles of a very much working-class population aside from a large and luxurious Ambassador's shuttle stationed closer to the entrance of the building. The planet had been just part of one of the Empire's many mining colonies, but its Imperial occupants clearly had a taste for affluence; while the platform of the senatorial building was wide and coated in reflective marble, the building stood taller than it probably had to be with arched roofs and massive glass panels to let in the difficult light of permanent Festian winter. The landscape around it was blanketed in thick, impermeable-looking snow, blue and dim, but the world's one sun squinted a few brilliant rays through the thick fortress of gray clouds. The cold stung, but the sun was pleasant on skin and demanded to be felt. Bodhi unconsciously shrugged his jacket partially off his shoulders to feel the pleasant burn.

Jyn paid more attention to the Ambassador's shuttle, and refused to believe _he'd_ ever contented to traveling aboard that thing.

They were lead by a guardsman in to a lobby with a high ceiling and native designs on a stark white floor. They sat on the long, plush white leather sofa left behind by the building's previous occupants. They drifted into silence and waited.

After an uncomfortable, short eternity, the guardsman returned and beckoned them towards a too-tall door.

Bodhi seemed hesitant to follow even though this had been his idea and Jyn rolled her eyes, grabbing him by the wrist and marching onward.

The door closed behind them of its own accord and they were left alone with a tall figure in the native Festian clothing of thick and fur-lined black robes. Robes and a crutch for his bad leg.

Cassian crossed the space between them faster than the crutch should've deemed possible and pulled her into an affectionate hug with a greeting in his native tongue that she didn't understand. Bodhi shifted uncomfortably at her side.

Cassian pulled back and noticed their shared discomfort at once. "I'm sorry about...this," he muttered, hurriedly shrugging out of the too-elegant robes and setting aside the crutch. Underneath he was himself; less of the battlefield grime that had stuck to his skin in the years of war, but loose shirt, worn cargo pants and a blaster at his hip. Just in case. She never let go of her truncheons either. "Official attire, it's...I don't have a choice, really."

Jyn crossed her arms tightly at her chest, not quite ready to forgive months of minimal contact after one hug. "Been busy?"

Cassian shook his head regretfully. "The Empire left too many pieces to pick up. There's too much to fix. We've been trying, all this time, but it might be a while yet."

"I don't suppose Command is giving you a lot of breathing space, then," prompted Bodhi in his defense.

"Not really," admitted Cassian warily. "This is my planet. These are people like me. I want to do the best I can for them."

Jyn dropped her arms and sighed. It was impossible to hold this grudge. "Still, you should've called more than three times."

Bodhi winced. Had he known it was _that_ bad...

Cassian regarded his previous partner with an expression that held hints of both guilt and affection. He could hide it easily, but somehow he wasn't.

This made Bodhi even more uncomfortable.

"Er, I'm going to...I mean, I have to get back...to my ship. There's a...thing I brought from Coruscant...for Kay. Where's Kay?"

Cassian allowed this bluff. "You'll find him running a weather scan just outside the landing platform. He's a little edgy these days. Don't take him by surprise."

"Got it," said Bodhi, starting to head for the door at once. "I'll...er, be back in a while, alright?"

Jyn watched him go with an entirely unconvinced expression, and turned to Cassian as soon as the door closed. "What was that about?"

"You didn't really think I'd allow our minimal contact to go on forever, did you? And...I had to see you in person."

Jyn shook her head. "You set Bodhi up to this?"

"Yes," Cassian ran a hand through his hair, which was looking just as disheveled as it had looked during the years of war. This little detail she could appreciate. He met her eyes at last. "Jyn, I am so sorry."

She held up a hand. "Don't be. I didn't know how bad it was on Fest. It makes sense."

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

Jyn struggled to keep a smile from her own face. She didn't understand the sudden urge- maybe it was a mirror reaction. "Don't thank me. All I did was come home."

This last line, delivered in casual statement, seemed to break whatever reserve of spy's self-preservation Cassian still held onto and he reached for her face and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing half-words that would've been inaudible even if her left ear wasn't dead to the world.

" _Te amo, Jyn."_

She wished she understood the language, but Cassian's eyes weren't holding anything back. Again he was conveying more than what she was ready to acknowledge, giving her a chance, yet another chance to accept this...way he felt. The way he'd felt since Scarif and during all their years of partnership.

But as usual she said nothing, and he pulled away slowly.

"I'm not willing to call it quits on this partnership just yet," she said, catching his hands before they could fully leave her face. She looked at him with burning eyes. She'd never acknowledged this, any of this, because of the imminent fear of loss that had permanently hung over her when they'd fought in the war.

Jyn wasn't used to simply having what she wanted. She was used to losing the things she loved just when they started to become comfortable, and so she'd never grown comfortable with him, or Bodhi, or Chirrut and Baze. Still, she couldn't deny she was attached nevertheless. Bodhi, whom she considered trustworthy, a friend. Cassian, whom she considered trustworthy, a partner. Perhaps in more ways now than one.

She searched his eyes, both grateful and worried that he had let his walls down. He was certain and unflinching with the truth he'd chosen to reveal.

"You need to call more often," she said, for lack of a better comment.

"How important is your job on Coruscant?" he asked.

She momentarily faltered. What? "Why?"

Cassian shrugged. "Because I miss you. Because I want to rebuild my life here on Fest, and for that I need a partner."

Jyn coughed. "A partner?" she clarified.

He walked back to his desk, hovered there a moment, looked around the otherwise empty room with uncertainty and snatched something off of it. He hesitated a couple of times when he tried to turn. Eventually he steeled himself and approached her again.

"What I said just now," he started, pulling his half of the kyber crystal around his neck, over the still-bloodied gash that showed on his collarbone and wincing when the pendant touched. "What I've been saying for...quite a while, in Festian. _Te amo._ Do you know what that means?"

Jyn shook her head slowly. "No. I've always wondered."

"I..." he hesitated, gaze fixing on a point above her shoulder. He suddenly smiled. "Bodhi's here."

She grabbed his wrist before he could walk away from this. "Tell me."

"Later..."

" _Now,_ you shavit."

Cassian looked down at her with truthful brown eyes. "I love you," he said simply, broke free when her grip loosened, and strode to meet Bodhi at the door. Kay had come with him and was making some complaint or the other about his most recent appointment.

But she followed him and took his arm just when he stood at the door. "Can you give us more time, Bodhi?"

Bodhi blinked in confusion, looking back and forth between them, while Kay only tilted his head and ran analytics. Then the pilot nodded, pointed the droid in the other direction and somehow got him to move without a word. He closed the door before he disappeared.

Cassian didn't even look surprised. "Jyn-"

She took a step back so she could clearly see him and stated, "We need to talk about this."

He shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about. It's okay, Jyn. I can't force you to...to feel the same way."

Her gaze betrayed nothing, only a little curiosity she put on for his benefit. "And what way is that exactly, Cassian?"

He looked pained. "You know what way that is. I've been trying to tell you...and I get it, when we're fighting a war it's a stupid thing to consider. I also thought as much. But we're both here, Jyn, and the war is over, and...Force, must you make me explain? I _still_ love you. It's not like I can pretend I don't anymore. It's not like there's a war and cause to keep my attention. We _won,_ Jyn. This is what we've been fighting for and it's finally here. Are we going to live the same way we lived during the war?"

She followed him with impassive eyes, studying, unreadable as he proceeded to turn back, walk to his desk, stop short and turn again to face her.

"People who fought with us, lived like us, they're starting to catch up on everything they've missed. Kes and Shara are just so _happy._ Jare is running a cantina on Naboo. Bodhi comes here to ride the snow in his free time and help with the civilian efforts, did he tell you that?"

Jyn didn't tear her gaze away. "I have an apartment on Coruscant and a job. Free time, too. Bodhi and I meet for drinks."

Cassian half shook his head, half snorted with disbelief. "That's not living, Jyn."

"And what is?" she demanded. She was only angry because she knew he was right. "Moving in with you here on Fest? Riding the snow? Tauntauns? Wampas? A sixty-crew Ambassadorial shuttle?"

Cassian laughed dryly. "We don't have Tauntauns." He didn't say more, just retreated a distance to watch her. By this point Jyn wasn't even sure what she was supposed to say or do.

"What do you want?" she asked resignedly.

Cassian closed his eyes, like he didn't want any more of this conversation. Still, for her sake, he answered in a voice that didn't shake.

"To never have to let go of our parnership."

"Draven has no more assignments."

He almost rolled his eyes. "You're difficult."

"Spit it out," said Jyn, taking that as a compliment.

Cassian took in a breath, running a hand through his hair. His dark, disheveled and slightly overgrown hair that didn't suit the elegance and unnatural class of the building he was in, or the position he was running. "Would it be too much to ask you to marry me?"

Jyn froze before a prepared rebuttal. She had expected the confession, she had expected everything else he'd said, but straight up _marriage,_ from _Cassian-_ who'd spent more years than she had fighting the war, who was used to discomfort, difficulty, restlessness and survival, used to _pretending_ at everything- being an Imperial, being a happily married merchant, lying to contacts, all for a cause-

"Have you been talking to Kes?" she asked, a pathetic attempt to dodge the question.

Cassian mercifully allowed it. "Not a lot, no. Poe takes up most of my attention."

Despite herself, Jyn laughed. It was underlined with fear and uncertainty, the kind she hadn't experienced when navigating Imperial bases under a guise or darting around an armed contingent of Stormtroopers. "Is he cute?"

Cassian chuckled. "You'd have a hard time believing he came from Kes Dameron."

She laughed easier this time. This was the kind of conversation she was used to, and comfortable with. "It's not very smart to say that about your own cousin."

Cassian pulled a face. "We look nothing alike."

She smirked. "If you say so."

The silence that settled between them was so comfortable that she almost forgot she'd just been faced with a too-difficult question.

She looked up to find his gaze on hers again, but it wasn't intent and highly attentive this time. They held a quiet understanding like he was ready to accept whatever she said, even if it wasn't in his favour.

Jyn struggled to pronounce the words. " _Te amo,_ Cassian. But not...not now. Not just yet."

He had to ask. "Why?"

 _Because you deserve better, and I'm not used to having the best._

She shrugged casually. "Because I'm not ready to move in and we both have work to do. Later, quietly..."

There was a reluctant knock on the door. Twice, then the person on the other end seemed afraid to repeat.

Cassian straightened. "That's got to be Bodhi. Come in."

The pilot barely looked through the door he opened a crack. "Er, I'm sorry, but the guardsmen here are asking me to move the ship, some hotshot is on his way apparently..."

Jyn sighed. "Looks like our cue to leave."

"Move the ship," repeated Bodhi, voice hitching slightly. Kriff, how much had Cassian told him?

Bodhi's next words confirmed her suspicions. "Give it a chance, Jyn," he sounded frightened like he expected her to pounce. "And, um, yeah...there's no...you know, there's no war anymore. If you want this, it's...it's _possible._ "

She looked at Cassian incredulously. "You told him about the proposal?"

"Proposal?" Bodhi jumped. "Wait, wait-"

She turned to face him and noticed at the same time that behind her, Cassian was rubbing his forehead warily.

"Bodhi," she asked on instinct. "Do you think I should marry Cassian?"

Bodhi looked like he was about to turn away and run for his life. "W-What? Me? I don't- I don't know!"

"This is not how proposals are supposed to go," Cassian closed his eyes. "Is there any way I can undo all of this and...ask later?"

"No," said Jyn and Bodhi at once.

He raised an eyebrow, partially confused and partially unwilling to believe this was happening. "What?"

Bodhi looked at Jyn with eyes anyone else would've thought they could _not_ refuse. "I need to go."

"You're not going anywhere," she said, sounding almost scandalized.

Bodhi made his utmost effort to shrink, appear smaller than even she was. " _I'm_ not the one you should be asking, Jyn. You should just...just...listen to your heart."

"What? Not helping."

The pilot was about to say something in defiance, but they were both stopped short by the anticlimatic sound they heard first.

Cassian didn't stop his poorly-concealed fit of laughter even when they proceeded to stare.

"I'm sorry," he managed eventually, still suppressing a chuckle. "This is just...the funniest conversation that's ever been held in this Force-forsaken office."

Jyn snickered but Bodhi pulled on his best stern face. "Hold on, we still need to talk about this."

Jyn sighed. "Do we?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Bodhi, looking disbelievingly between them both. "Or at least... _you_ have to talk about this, the two of you. You can't get married- or _not_ get married without talking about it first! And I...I don't really have to be here. No. I don't. I'm going to leave you to it, sort this out yourselves and...Jyn, be sensible. Please? I know you're a little scared about this, and trust me, I'd be, too, but..." He had already backed several steps to the door and hovered by its hinges. "I gotta catch up with Kay. Bye."

The door slammed shut behind him.

An awkward stretch of silence followed.

"What are you scared of?" Cassian asked plainly, staring straight ahead at the closed door. He glanced in her direction, expecting an answer, anything.

Jyn shook her head in frustration. "You know how I feel. But...establishing something like that, it's...it's too early to decide how safe it is. The war just ended. There's still a high chance that we'll be called back to duty and then I could lose you."

Cassian stepped closer. "There's always going to be that risk, Jyn. If we choose to think about it we won't get anything done during our lifetimes."

She clenched her fists by her sides. "You don't get it. I've never _not_ lost the things I love. Just when something is established, just when I start to get used to it, the Empire or the rebellion or _some_ kriffing force of nature swoops in and takes it away. And you deserve better- so much better, Cassian, than establishing something with me and losing it just like that."

He reached for her hands and uncurled her fingers, one by one, not seamlessly but with a little bit of effort because they were tight and forceful. Jyn eventually gave up on resistance and let him. He stroked the back of her palms with his thumbs, trying to ease the tension from them. "That's ridiculous," he scoffed.

Jyn scowled. "What's ridiculous? I'm speaking from experience and you of all people-"

Cassian lifted her right hand to press a quick kiss to her knuckles. "It sounded like you're some kind of bad luck charm and all that was your fault. It _is_ ridiculous."

She tried to pull away but found she was too drained to break from his iron grip. "It's what always happens."

Cassian laughed mirthlessly. "Jyn, _mi amor,_ if you're going to say no, at least give me a good reason."

Jyn didn't drop her scowl and didn't want to think of any other reason. She didn't think she had to. It made perfect sense to speak from experience. The way he'd put it, however...

"You love me?"

Jyn ground her teeth with muted frustration. "Yes. But-"

"Then give me a chance. I want to take the risk. I'd take any risk for you."

He had. On the field, so many times. She didn't need proof of that. But this wasn't the field- it was what was left of his life.

Instead she remarked wryly, "You're going soft, Major."

Cassian half-smiled. "I think I've always been, around my partner."

Jyn snorted, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "Kriff, you're a bigger romantic than _Kes._ "

The Festian reared back, totally appalled. " _No._ "

Jyn pulled his arms around her shoulders and rested hers on his, burying her face in his uninjured shoulder. She _could_ listen. She _could_ leave the bad experience of the past behind, forget that a war that had plagued her life since its beginning had just barely ended.

"Fest has creatures other than Tauntauns," Cassian said close to her ear. "Could you at least stay long enough to meet some of them?"

Jyn allowed herself a smile. "Peaceful creatures?"

"Mostly," he ran careful fingers through her hair, breath chilly on her neck on account of the Festian cold. "Mostly."

* * *

"Seriously, Jyn? Asking _me_ if you should marry him?"

"You're one the people I trust the most. Why not?"

"It's not _normal_ to- ah damn it, _nevermind_."

* * *

"What? You _asked_ her? Kriff, congratulations, bro! I gotta tell Shara- wait, she didn't...? Are you sure? Maybe she just meant- oh. But that's stupid. You're _perfect_ for each other, ask Shara- Shara, aren't they? She says yes. Poe, you think so too, don't you? Wow. That's the second word he's spoken today, and it's yes. What do you mean stop ruining my child? I've already told him the two of you are married- well, he's a _child,_ Cassian! And...seriously? Whatever, brother. Not the ideal first date. I- yes, I _know_ mine was the Base cantina, but you have _options_ now! It doesn't matter. The two of you need help anyway. Good luck with feeding the Tauntau- sorry, no Tauntauns on Fest. I really need to visit my home planet more often."

* * *

Fest was colder at night without the pleasant heat of its only sun permeating the clouds, but it wasn't insufferably frigid and deadly like Hoth. There were no six-feet deep natural trenches at irregular intervals and the snow didn't rise past your ankles. Winter was a brutal thing on most planets of the Outer Rim but for Fest, a world encrusted in that one season permanently, the weather was bearable and not entirely unfriendly to its inhabitants.

Bodhi had borrowed three of Cassian's jackets anyway. He resembled something of a human cushion with all those layers of clothing, and Jyn could be pretty certain the pilot couldn't actually see where he was going and that was why he seemingly-casually held onto her arm as they navigated the blanketed streets towards one of the several small farming settlements dotting the landscape. Kaytoo lead the way alongside Cassian. The droid's presence reminded her even more of the days during the war when they'd worked together as a team.

As much as she didn't want the war back, she missed those days to no end.

"Y-You know, I m-might understand w-why you don't want to move in here," he stuttered against the cold, leaning in closer to snatch a tiny bit of body heat from her.

Jyn raised an eyebrow. "It's not that bad."

Bodhi pouted in disagreement. "R-Right. Because this doesn't even _remotely_ resemble Hoth."

"It doesn't."

"T-Then why don't you move in? It's less luxury than Coruscant."

Jyn bit her lip. It was a point. Coruscant didn't feel like home- the affluence of her residential sector was far from what she was used to. Fest, on the other hand, and Cassian-

Not Fest. Just wherever Cassian happened to be, in general. Whether it was deep in the heart of Imperial territory or a harsh Outer-Rim planet being investigated for a mining operation. Whether it was on Hoth Base, which nobody in their right mind considered habitable, or the ships aboard which they fled the Empire; Jyn needed just two people to feel at home, and they were Cassian and Bodhi.

Would it be so difficult to ignore the eminent fear of loss and settle down, like most of their comrades had? To take the chance that somehow, someday, the war would come back and steal from her again?

 _Or waste the rest of your life waiting for the war to come back._

"Chirrut would advice you to leave the war behind, Jyn," Bodhi said quietly from beside her, as if he'd read her thoughts all along. "This is the peace you fought for."

She reached around his shoulder and supported his trudging, staggering figure in the snow. "I know," she said at last. "And I always listened to Chirrut."

Cassian and his droid had come to a stop a few feet ahead of them, Kaytoo scanning the horizon for signs of a storm. The distance looked clear enough, but they supposed only a native Festian would be able to tell.

"We need to pick up our pace," Cassian approached them with his fists buried deep in his parka. "There's going to be a snowstorm- a small one, but it's preferable to avoid it- within the next thirty minutes. They can be a little sudden like this."

Jyn tilted her head. "Come here."

He raised an eyebrow in question but listened anyway. "Something wrong?"

Bodhi coughed to cover a chuckle and she rolled her eyes at him, starting to shrug him off. "Go on, scan the perimeter with Kay. Learn to survive on your own."

The pilot pouted but she didn't miss the amused glint in his eyes as he walked off, hugging the jackets around him as he went. Cassian spared him a curious look.

"What was that all about?"

Jyn steeled herself. "I've made a decision."

Cassian started to frown in question, but his eyes widened fractionally as it occurred to him. "About-"

She stepped beside him and laid her head sideways on his shoulder, vying for as much warmth as was possible in the suddenly colder Festian air. A storm was definitely on its way. Cassian reached around her shoulders with an arm.

"And you're going to let Bodhi go cold?" he asked with a small smile, behind which hid a barely-concealed relief; joy, even.

"He's got to pay _some_ price for not wanting to move in with me," Jyn muttered, hiding her own relief at the fear she'd finally faced.

Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We need to get to that settlement fast, _mi amor._ "

Bodhi suddenly yelped. "Kriff, kriff, snowstorm coming, snowstorm coming!"

Kay turned around to give his owner a disdainful look. "Thanks to the time you've wasted, we're going to have to kick up on speed now."

"I'm not running in this snow," Bodhi hurried over to them. "Carry me or something. I'm _not_ running."

Wherever they were, the pilot and ex-spy. Whether it was the remotest part of space or the middle of a Force-forsaken nowhere; they would always remind her of the war she fought- and the life she wanted to live now that it was over.

A peaceful life, preferably. With the two people who mattered most to her in the galaxy close at hand, and the nightmares of the past securely locked away behind the hatch of the dark cave in her mind.

Jyn snaked an arm around Cassian's waist and regarded their friend thoughtfully. "This is the kind of situation," she assessed, subtly touching her lips to the sliver of skin exposed on his neck and taking a strange satisfaction from the shiver he bit back. "That really calls for a Tauntaun."

* * *

 **Author's Note; Reviews are love!**


	2. Duels with Loss and Victory (1 of 4)

**Thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed this fic so far!:)**

 **None of the works of in this fic are in any real chronological order, because while they're all part of the same Universe they're very much standalone. This one takes place after the Endor victory in Part 1. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or anything related except for a whole bunch of merchandise that cost an arm and a leg.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Duels with Loss and Victory**

Without the urgent whistles of swooping ships and traveling buzzes of blaster- fire, the forest moon at nighttime could almost pass as peaceful. Crickets chirped in the trees instead of warning beacons. Pints of planets and stars littered the sky in the place of emergency flares and bright red explosions and colliding ships like they had during the day. There were no activated ion canons. No dipping TIE fighters or walkers in the foliage. No Death Star. No Emperor.

Simple fires lit by rebel soldiers and the natives alike burned small and fierce, burned like hope, in spots on the ground below them. Groups of soldiers sat around and danced, drank, swapped stories and bumped fists. For all the world they would have looked like ordinary people, happy people, but one had to be from amongst them to note the bone-deep weariness that reeked from the stiff way they talked, the reluctant way they chugged their alcohol. None of these men or women had expected this day to come, and most of them didn't expect it to last.

To Jyn it was surreal. She had seen places of pristine beauty back in some long-lost life- the black sand, heady breeze, sprawling crop fields of Lah'mu- but this was a different kind of beauty; almost unnatural, even more unbelievable. Her perch on the treehouse deck beside Bodhi felt as unreal; too peaceful, no inevitable disaster close at hand. Ships had flown in with extra medical supplies and a handful of rebels who hadn't been part of the day's battle, willing to help. Or maybe wanting the too-rare chance to celebrate, who knew?

Bodhi shuffled warily at her side, looking in her peripheral vision as uneasy as a person who didn't believe he should be alive. Jyn knew; not a lot of pilots had survived the assault on the Death Star.

Not a lot of pilots had survived the attack on Echo Base, either. Or the fateful mission on Scarif.

In a gesture of comfort that had grown easier over the years, she reached a hand out to place over his.

"You're a good man, Bodhi," she told him with conviction. "I'm glad you're here."

The pilot, to his credit, tried for a wobbly smile. "Yeah," was all he managed to get out. "I'm glad you're here too."

Companiable silence settled in between them. The ewoks' chatter grew, as did the noise of merrymaking and dancing and drinking from the forest clearing. Someone had got some music going.

"Bodhi!" a voice called from a level on a tree not very far below them. They both searched with eyes prone to night-vision by now. Luke was signalling to them, on his way down the steps of his own borrowed tree house. "Lieutenant Erso. Join in, won't you?"

Jyn almost rolled her eyes. The kid managed to be so damn cheerful all the time...

"We should at least go talk to people, probably," mused Bodhi in agreement. Right. And it was contagious.

"Probably," said Jyn, and made no effort to move.

The pilot poked her intrusively in the arm. "Come on. It might...it might lift our spirits, while it lasts."

Jyn shrugged. "You go on. I'll just...wait till Cassian gets back, then I can probably negotiate my way into perimeter-duty."

Even Bodhi managed to look apalled at that- perimeter duty over resting your body and brain after a long day of fighting- but he made light of the words instead, smiling teasingly as he did. "Are you sure you aren't just trying to get Cassian alone?"

Jyn shot him an annoyed look, but he laughed outright at the response. He knew she wouldn't have punched him considering his injured state.

"Come on, Jyn," the pilot said again, this time warmly in request, joking tone gone. "We don't have to talk to anyone you don't want to. Or drink, either, if you're not up to it."

She met his eyes for a moment and couldn't say no. It felt wrong, like she was robbing him of a chance to celebrate a victory long-desired, although most part of her knew that neither one of them was ready to celebrate anything just yet.

"Alright," she said. Below their perch, rebels were taking to paring up for what looked like a dance. She gestured purposefully in that general direction. "But promise me talking is all I'm going to do."

* * *

Celebration didn't feel real, or natural, or safe at this juncture. The Emperor was dead, but that didn't mean the Empire was gone completely, didn't mean some new leadership couldn't present itself and continue what the Emperor started. And then Endor and all the lives lost over the years would go back to being meaningless, this victory gone as swift as the one after they'd blown up the first Death Star. Her gaze kept flickering up to the skies- stars, ordinary stars, she kept telling herself. There were only planets and stars up there. No battlestations. No fleet of Star Destroyers, though there soon could be. Still, she wasn't looking entirely out of place among the rejoicing rebels. Many sat on rocks and the forest floor, enjoying at least their meals. Jyn herself had been offered a can of compressed protein, but warm, and she currently devoured it with fervour.

Somebody- Kes Dameron? Antilles? A familiar face anyway- even passed her one of the moon's tropical fruits. Seeing everyone else dig into the same green lumps, she hadn't bothered to check for edibility beyond a sniff and focused her thoughts only on the food in her hands and the small fire that danced happily at her feet.

Jyn suppressed a groan when Bodhi waltzed as happily towards her restless crouch on the smooth rock.

"I got some old Jedhan music going," he practically sang. Jyn hadn't seen him drink much- or at all?- and blamed this on his buddy Luke's cheery personality that she found annoying at the best of times. "Do you want to join us?"

"I already did join you."

With surprising speed, Bodhi snatched the half-finished can from her hand, positioned it somewhere beyond her immediate reach, and grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet. "But you're being boring. Come on!"

Jyn blanched. "No."

"Really boring," Bodhi corrected himself, throwing an arm around her shoulders to lead her more firmly in the direction of the revelry. Jyn tried to break off but found even his injured arm stubborn. She supposed she really shouldn't be surprised; the pilot was a long shot away from being like her or Cassian, but he'd also fought in the war, and he'd also had his training.

Everybody paused momentarily to look at her obviously unwilling approach, but Bodhi waved them off and they went back to turning their own dance partners.

She froze. Oh. _Hell_. No.

Bodhi was giving her his trademark big-eyed stare of pleading, which for all his stiffness even Cassian couldn't refuse most of the time.

"You promised. Only talking to people."

"Everyone else has a dance partner," Bodhi said, not taking away his damn eyes. "Please, Jyn?"

She huffed irritably. "I'm going to punch you in the face the next time you pull that."

The pilot broke into a sly, satisfied grin. "I've been told I have nice eyes."

Jyn snorted. "No," she said in mock disbelief. "Who?"

With the pilot's slight blush she could very well guess who, and wondered why the hell the woman couldn't be here to dance with him instead. "Before the music finishes," he insisted without addressing the question, yanking her towards where everyone danced. "It's Jedhan. I'm good at this form."

Because she knew his faith and Jedhan roots were important to him, and because his city of upbringing had long since perished now, she settled for a minute smile and let him demonstrate his proficiency in its folk dance.

Which, much to her amusement, she found was close to none. Bodhi kept a firm grip on her hands while he swayed them, highly suspicious that she would break off and leave, instructing her with how to move her feet in relation to his and where to keep stepping. For the most part she mirrored his moves- they weren't fluid, they weren't graceful but they were clear enough to follow- and listened for the harder beats of music that called for faster steps. The footwork was exhausting but not overly complicated, except at instances the pilot stumbled or shuffled, pretended he'd done it on purpose, and swiftly went back to comfortable steps. The music trilled, and he swung their arms, then it dropped and he hard-stepped to a side. The beat got faster and Jyn found her feet unable to keep up, but she laughed at his look of disappointment and broke free from his grip, clutching her jaw in a futile attempt to hide her chuckles. Giving her a look of an accepted challenge, Bodhi kept right on with his footwork, lasting a good thirty seconds before he stumbled gracelessly and fell into the arms she'd prepared for a catch.

"You knew I was going to fall!" sniffed the pilot accusingly.

"Okay," shrugged Jyn, and sidestepped to let go.

"No, no, no!" yelped Bodhi before she even released her hold. "Okay! I appreciate it!"

They'd caught the stares of a few unoccupied rebels, and Jyn burst out laughing at how ridiculous her friend must have looked.

Bodhi struggled to his own two feet before glaring hard at her, but it didn't last long and he soon had to clutch his sides not to double over laughing.

"You," he chortled weakly, leaning against her side for support. "Are wicked."

"You," Jyn pushed him off. "Can't dance."

"Let's try a different song," protested Bodhi as a slow tune, definitely not cultural, began to play over several chattering voices. "I'm sure I'm still better than you."

Jyn thought of refusing this one, but then she'd have to go back to solidarity and her own thoughts with only food and stars to keep her distracted. "Don't think I can't see what you're doing, by the way," she said as she accepted his hands.

"What?" Bodhi frowned in question.

Jyn held back an indignified snicker. "This is just practice to impress Corporal Nihta, isn't it?"

Bodhi coloured terribly, made an unconvincing snorting sound, started to lead the dance a little too early.

"I'm allowed to just want to dance with my normal friend, you know," he grumbled.

"Don't deny it," she said with a triumphant hum, breaking their handhold to place her arms on his shoulders. "How are you going to hold her? Like that? It's no wonder you don't get anywhere."

Bodhi huffed. "You've got this whole thing wrong-"

"Look, I think that's Luke trying to put in a good word for you."

Bodhi spun around in alarm, only to have him yanked back by the hands. "Don't look," Jyn said exasperatedly. "You'll make it more obvious than it already is."

"You're stepping on my feet," muttered Bodhi.

"Your feet aren't moving," objected Jyn, taking to leading the dance from him. He followed without protest, but kept trying to glance in Luke's direction without her noticing. Jyn would have laughed if she wasn't still trying to come to terms with how normal all of this was- and involuntarily, her eyes flickered to the stars again.

"It's gone, Jyn," Bodhi's voice came suddenly softly. "It's gone for good now."

Jyn squeezed her lips into a smile for his benefit. "I know," she said, trying to drift her mind into the music.

Bodhi offered her an embrace and she accepted it with a gratitude that showed. "Galen would be so proud of how far you've come," he said gently, running a calloused hand down her hair, smoothing out the knots and frizzes that weren't supposed to be there, still caked with mud and grime from a hard day's battle.

"And of you, too," Jyn patted his back lightly, feeling surprising tears pick at her eyes. She blinked them back before Bodhi could hold her at arm's length and examine her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

Jyn conjured up a snort and shoved him a little without warning. "I'm fine. You know, the Corporal's going to give up and find another partner if you stick with me for too long."

The pilot couldn't keep that treacherous colour creeping into his cheeks again, but he swatted her arm unappreciatively and shook his head too quickly. "You're really messed up in the head, you know?"

Jyn pursed her lips, fighting back a small smirk. "Aren't we all?" she asked quietly, feeling the weight of her words only when she spoke.

Bodhi made an indistinguishable noise of partial acknowledgement, but found something interesting in the distance above her shoulder. "Speaking of partners," he jutted his chin forward.

Jyn whirled around to see, indeed, her many-times mission partner approach them, slightly favouring one leg as he walked. Anybody else he would've greeted with a stiff salute and immediate orders- them, though, he sacrificed the couple of muscles it took to smile warily, and clipped his sidearm casually to his belt. In the forest moon's chilly night, he'd taken to a standard-issue camouflage jacket rather than the blue parka that nobody else in the Alliance owned.

"Uneventful," he said of his perimeter-duty. "The other team tagged a couple of "troopers, but from what our trackers can see the rest of them, whom we largely outnumber, have moved away from this camp. Any Imperials left on this moon are either dead or fleeing." His eyes caught the briefest flicker of some faraway emotion, something he didn't allow himself to feel often, but it was gone before it registered. "They found a way to play music out loud," he commented with a dry smile, more to distract himself than anything else. "I'm impressed."

"You'll be more impressed that I got Jyn to dance," Bodhi revealed with a broad grin.

Cassian's eyebrows raised a fraction. "Are you serious?"

"I dance when I have to," Jyn reminded him with a scowl.

"With the Sward alias, yes, but-" He waved a hand, smiling slightly. He was grappling with their current reality, this victory, this celebration, under the surface. Distraction and diversion from the topic were most welcome, especially if they were going to talk about something normal for him, something he was used to. "You're difficult about it even then."

A comfortable, illusory silence settled in among them, soft music and tapping feet filling in place of coversation.

For the most part Jyn observed Cassian, took in the sight of him; battered, bruised everywhere, a plethora of different colours. There was a faded red from the dried blood that still swept over his face, and black from ash and soot and burn. Brown and green breeches from the foliage he'd crawled in to get a shot at the enemy, a previously stained white shirt an entirely different colour of cream with yellow hues. She spared a glance in Bodhi's direction just in time- the pilot's eyes had flickered in the direction nine o'clock.

Grinning impossibly, she nudged his ribs harder than strictly necessary and offered her most indulgent smirk. The pilot groaned, coloured a brighter shade of red than the blood still darting his hands and neck, and sunk a fist weakly into her shoulder before making off in that general direction. She fell back next to Cassian to watch with a spy's discretion, and they both observed their friend feign casualness and call to Luke in greeting as if not even noticing the Corporal's presence.

"He's hopeless," commented Jyn absently, a fond lilt to her tone.

Cassian murmured an agreement, only watching quietly as Bodhi proceeded to talk to Nihta, although Jyn couldn't quite hide her grimace at Luke's well-intended but entirely overdone input before the young jedi scooted off elsewhere.

The air was leaden with tension again, all too soon, a tension that tugged at their hearts and pounded in their ears like the apprehension before battle.

There would be no more battles.

Jyn coughed, cutting through the uneasy silence with what could only be a call for further disaster.

Inconspicuous, the music continued faintly.

Cassian cleared his throat, the sensation bringing unexpected pain from a voicebox still hoarse from a day's, lifetime's, shouting in the field. "Dance?" he asked, leaving plenty of room for a no which he would have accepted easily, eagerly, even.

Despite the feeling of utter emptiness wrenching her gut, Jyn managed to quirk a corner of her mouth. "Bodhi didn't exactly have it easy, you know."

"I know," said Cassian simply.

"Let's..." Jyn looked around, warily, guardedly, trying and failing to take in the sight of celebrating rebels. "Somewhere quieter. I don't..."

She trailed off, but the soldier of a lifetime didn't have to ask. "This way," he said, turning to make for the deeper parts of the temporary encampment. She followed without question. Anything to get away from this noise. This celebration that felt...impossible.

The Empire's defeat that seemed impossible. The war's end that had all this time seemed impossible.

She fell into stride beside him through the sparse settlement of canvas tents, weapons crates and docked craft. All residing personnel had apparently left for the main event happening in the clearing. She didn't blame them. She had waited for this day, too.

Primitive fire torches made up for most of the light that illuminated the path of forest floor and provided a screen for the tangled shadows of tall trees. All other lighting was the work of the stars and the blue headlights of a singular cargo shuttle wedged uncomfortably between two pines.

They came to a stop in the headlights' cast, where crates of explosives were piled haphazardly over the other.

Cassian wordlessly shifted a few risky boxes, lowering them to the ground with soft thumps, and she offered no assistance because she knew her mission partner better than that.

He let his frame slacken the slightest bit, sitting atop one of the crates touching the ground and bringing his knees towards him. He motioned for her to join in. She took the crate right beside him, allowing the wave of relief a comfortable seat finally brought her tired body.

"How long are we going to..." she gestured vaguely. "Stay here? On Endor?"

"We leave at noon tomorrow," answered Cassian almost seamlessly, because these words of procedure were not foreign to him. "On a guess that's why the alcohol stock brought in isn't exactly sufficient. Can't have bad hangovers delaying our safe return."

Despite herself Jyn laughed. "There's a reason Han calls you Major By-The-Book."

"Well," Cassian smiled humorlessly, not as annoyed by Solo's jab as he normally got. "That's pretty much all I know."

Back to the unspoken question. The doubts, and unfamiliarity, and fear of this victory that clung to them like polymerised skin, impermeable and suffocating, taking the breath from their lungs slowly and painfully.

"Breaking those rules is pretty much all I know," Jyn touched her fingers to his hand, letting them try something like comfort for a while before hastily deflecting them. "At least you're good at what you do."

Cassian nodded imperceptibly. "And my partner deserves a lot of credit for that."

Jyn closed her eyes against the oncoming heartache, the reminder of everything that would change, and the sharply contrasting pleasant warmth that ran from the words through to the rest of her.

"Do you think it's over?" she asked bluntly.

"I'm sure I'll notice when it's gone," he looked skywards. "The war is all I've ever known."

"And the same goes for me," Jyn followed his gaze. "But knowing there's no more Death Star, no more Emperor, it's..." She searched for the word. "Elating. It's elating."

Cassian didn't say anything.

"Is it wrong to think that way?" she asked, not believing it could be.

"No," said Cassian at once. "No, we have to think that way. Every one of us."

Jyn bent her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands, exhaling a shaky breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The music was a tinny sound from far away where the crowd gathered, less audible than the chirps of various native insects and nocturnal rodents, scurrying over the foliage and up the barks of trees. Endor was beautiful, she supposed, taken in the right context. Like so many other planets of the Empire's colony, it was driven to ruination by occupation and war.

"So," she said, trying to sound calmer than she actually felt. "What now?"

Cassian averted his eyes from the shuttle's headlights, looking to the darkness awhile, and then back at her. He smiled self-deprecatingly. "That's my mental state at the moment summed up in three words."

Jyn scraped her fingers through her hair, combing out the mud and leaves and matted blood among the unwashed tresses. Why hadn't she showered yet? She figured she should, before the reminder of the gone war drove her utterly insane.

Try as she might to adapt to life without a war, she would never be entirely rid of the battlefield's filth, anyway.

"I wish they were here," she said suddenly, unheeding of the words leaving her mouth. "Chirrut and Baze. And Serchill. Force, they should...they deserve to be here."

Cassian had grown quieter at the mention of their late comrades, more Jyn's comrades, because the survivors of Scarif had worked with her in a single unit while he continued his services in Intelligence, Jyn frequently joining him as a partner and him occasionally asking to play a part in their assignments. He'd been close, yes, to Chirrut and the others, but he'd kept his lifelong custom of detachment. Jyn, on the other hand, had taken this approach with less success.

"They didn't die in vain," he touched her hand on the crate, gently rubbing in the rough and rugged skin at her knuckles. "Today we saw to that by winning the war."

Jyn dropped her eyes to where his fingers eased the tension in hers. She murmured a non-committal sound of agreement.

"So what now?" she asked again, her grip on the crate's edge tightening.

"I don't have an answer to that," said Cassian, working against friction to remove her grip. He almost lifted her hand, meaning to press a kiss to her bloodied knuckles, but wordlessly dropped his fingers back over hers instead, the digits twitching in muted frustration.

Jyn entirely disregarded this observation. Her head was pounding with realizations her mind couldn't yet digest, the end of the war and what that meant, the possibility of a life without it and what that meant, so she didn't want more thoughts; she wanted talk, lighthearted talk, like every paradigm she'd grown used to hadn't suddenly collapsed in over her head.

"How do you suppose Bodhi's getting along?" she asked, because it was easier to talk about a friend who was still alive.

Cassian's ambiance of wariness changed, the corners of his lips twitching imperceptibly. "He doesn't really have to try."

Jyn peered at him curiously. "Why not?"

Cassian shrugged. "She's already interested. It's as much Shara's fault as it is Luke's. They've both painted him out to be a hero apparently."

Jyn could believe what she was hearing, but not that she was hearing it from him. "You've been keeping track of gossip?"

Cassian rolled his eyes. "Kes Dameron," he supplied sufficiently.

Jyn laughed for real. "He's really something else," she muttered, humour in her eyes. She pushed herself off the crate, turning to hold a hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow in question, but accepted presently, getting to his own feet after her.

They stood in the white glow of headlights, over the picture painted by the shadows. The music from the gathering continued in the background.

Even in the relative darkness, Jyn found her gaze enraptured in Cassian's eyes because they were deep and unguarded, like they'd been in those paused moments before a decision and a leap, risky junctures in missions, when the fine line between life and death had emerged from the fire. But they had survived all that, and it was all over now; the only decision and leap left was what they would do without the war.

Cassian's eyes were ernest and burning. "Dance?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

Despite herself Jyn found her lower lip wedged between her teeth, her gaze frozen in place. She dropped it to hover between his eyes, collar and open jacket. Battered, bruised and knocked around in every corner with bloodstains down the front of his shirt and a bloody edge to his lips, beautiful in a way that she couldn't comprehend.

She nodded simply, wordlessly, distancing their linked hands as was appropriate for one of the dances they'd had to put on as a cover before. Her free hand rested on his shoulder. Cassian kept his own free hand at a distance from her waist, question in his eyes.

She smirked with an cool confidence she didn't feel. "You've had to do worse, Cassian."

Cassian smiled in a way that was undetectable to anyone but his frequent mission partner. His hand settled on her waist easily.

They moved slowly in unison to the faint music, turning small circles around a spot, slowly, gradually losing interest in the tune and the dance steps initially practiced. Gradually starting to ignore the paradigm shift that had brought them this peaceful night on Endor.

"If I wasn't afraid of what's coming, I would..." Cassian started quietly. "I would be elated, too."

Agreement was beyond her. Not at this juncture, when she was so close to forgetting.

"This is what we fought for, isn't it?" she murmured. "Forget what's coming. We can forget for now."

Cassian smiled thinly, ironically. "And when we have to think about it tomorrow?"

"Then you can forget what happens now. Tonight," she sounded insistent and illogical to her own ears, but she wanted to forget. She wanted so badly to forget there was possibly a future waiting for them, out there somewhere within a short passage of time.

"The war is," she paused a heartbeat. Forced it out. " _Over_ , Cassian."

Cassian dropped one hand and lifted the other, his hands coming up to hold the sides of her face, his forehead brushing up to hers, his lips...

He kissed her with sudden fervour and passion, his lips tasting like blood and oil and blasterburn, a strangled sound catching in his throat and buzzing at his fingertips.

When he pulled back his eyes were half-lidded, his breath was laboured and shuddering. He distanced himself, enough so that she could no longer feel the heat radiating from his skin, but his cracked fingers stayed where they were, calloused and frustrated at her cheeks.

"Kriff, Jyn..." he muttered behind his teeth, searching her face with hopeful, and terrified, and regretting, and dispassionate eyes.

Letting it all go, letting worry and fear and terrible doubt leave her- surrendering herself to elation and the resulting rush of adrenaline- Jyn laughed, grabbing his own face in her hands and kissing him.

She had never kissed him before, not in their five years as mission partners. He had infrequently let his feelings show, kissed her knuckles when they were to themselves and kissed her cheek when they wore certain aliases that required the display, but she had never...because none of those times had ever been the end of the war.

It was over. Putting their lives on the line, worrying for their comrades, for each other and Bodhi, weariness over possible discovery when mainatining an alias, it wasover. The Empire that had taken so much away from them, it had fallen.

Cassian's eyes were wide and uncertain when she pulled back, a look that was so alien to the spy's face that she laughed even more at it.

"This is what we fought for, isn't it?" she asked, breathless in a way that would have been embarrassing had she been in her right mind. Hoping that he wouldn't shatter this illusion of hers with the real issues they faced.

But Cassian's hands were at her at either sides of her jaw again, brushing her cheekbones and the dirt settled over them. "Yes," he managed to get out in a single difficult breath. "Yes, it is."

Jyn pressed her forehead to his and let that all sink in. Made him choose to believe it as well. That they could afford to celebrate, if only for a short while, if only until they left Endor to start picking up the Empire's remains.

Kriff, everyone else was being happy with this victory. Why couldn't they, having fought as tirelessly for the end of the war?

"I wish they could be here," she admitted, resenting the crack in her voice. "Chirrut and...everyone else."

"I know," Cassian combed through her hair with gentle strokes, even more so than Bodhi's. Scraps of leaves, mud and dried, caked blood caught in his fingers, but he didn't stop. "Me too."

She was probably going to regret this display of carelessness when the day came and was very likely going to regret kissing him, but it was a fact that as for now the cause hadn't gone unfulfilled.

Because in the end, in this fight that had so many times seemed impossible, the rebellion's willful soldiers, its tiny spark of hope and the real legacy of Galen Erso had won out.

* * *

Bodhi came back at a late hour, groggily scaling the steps hammered into the side of the tree to get to a comfortable floor to pass out on. He'd interacted with the other rebels a while, partaken in the toast to their fallen comrades, and searched without success for Jyn and Cassian. He made a dogged effort to secure himself in the tree house before the adrenaline wore off completely, leaving him disoriented and entirely conscious of the uncertain day waiting for them.

Reminding him again of the people lost in battle.

When he finally reached, it was dark inside the wooden box courtesy of Endor's natives. Only the silhouettes of a low bunk constructed of planks and plant-based bedding, the figure that slept on it, and the camouflage sheets he'd sprawled on the floor earlier for himself.

He made his very best effort to lighten his fatigued footfalls as he went up to the makeshift bed first, glancing in to be double sure that he was in the right treehouse, but paused when he noticed that Jyn's brows were creased, like struggling with a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. Nightmares weren't new to any of them. When Chirrut had been around, he'd offered effective words of comfort and Jyn had had a couple of peaceful nights, but now...

Bodhi swiped a damp lock of hair back and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. The uncomfortable frown didn't leave her brow, but her breath did settle, and the corners of her mouth lost their strain. He liked to think it was an improvement.

He fell back down to his camouflage-sheet bedding and pulled the canvas over his flightsuit. Like most other rebels, he hadn't changed out of the battle's clothing just yet.

If the war was really going to end for good anytime soon, he desperately wished other people, braver people, were here with them to experience it. It was a cruel practice of fate, not letting you live to see the thing you fought so long for.

Chirrut and Baze, lost in the stricken evacuation off Hoth. Serchill, outnumbered and killed by a squadron of stormtroopers on what was supposed to be a low-risk mission. The dozen pilots he'd worked with over the years, knowing few by name but all of them in passing, and...

And what? Himself, Luke, Wedge and Shara were the only frontline pilots left after the three major battles to this day.

Bodhi raised his eyes up and around to the roof, its patterns of tatching not visible in the dark, trying to banish the images of faces- known faces, recognized faces, faces he'd never see again or potentially even forget- when a sound of footsteps stopped at the door.

"Sorry," said Cassian, stepping out of his boots before entering. "Didn't mean to startle you. You okay?"

Bodhi sighed, sitting up on his scratchy sheets. "I'm fine. Just a little...hungover, I guess."

Cassian didn't even bother looking doubtful, and went with it. "Jyn?"

Bodhi frowned just slightly, but the effect was pretty much lost in the cool darkness of their lent house. "I don't know how much she had. Thought she was with you the entire time."

"No," Cassian walked in without making a sound on the floorboards, a skill the pilot found eerie and supposed was essential in his line of work. He shrugged off his jacket and discarded it to the floor. Again without a sound. "She said she was getting back to the party. I suppose Solo asked her to dance."

Bodhi couldn't hide a tiny grin from finding its way to his features, but again, it was too dark for details. "You know there are more guys here than the two of us and Solo who'd like to dance with her. She probably kept clear of the party." Bodhi snagged Cassian's jacket- this time the blue parka, as stuffed and comfortable as it was- and put it under his head as a pillow. On missions where they all wound up together and having to rough out, himself and Jyn would often compete over their disgruntled friend's favourite jacket. "Besides, Solo has a serious thing for the Princess."

In that instant Bodhi wished there was enough of lighting to catch Cassian's shift in expression, but he did notice a sudden stiffness and that was satisfactory.

"No, he doesn't," Cassian refuted almost challengingly. Bodhi knew that, having been one of her handlers since they were both barely adults, his friend was the slightest bit protective of Leia and especially unappreciative of men like Han Solo.

"You can't have missed it," Bodhi bit back a laugh. He welcomed this distraction from his chaotic thoughts.

"I didn't miss anything," muttered Cassian, but he sounded like he knew he was wrong. Forgoing all thoughts of Solo and his interests, he climbed into the makeshift bed beside Jyn, in an empty space that had conveniently formed at her side.

Bodhi didn't say anything, but didn't look the other way, either.

They were probably used to sharing sleeping spaces on missions. Well, all three of them were; Bodhi had an embarrassing tendency to spread his limbs out and kick aside the both of them, so he was usually requested to keep a distance in the first place.

He occasionally understood Cassian's brother-like protectiveness over Leia. Force, he could sometimes relate to it. After all, Jyn was to him the way Leia was to Cassian, and whether or not it was strictly necessary he felt obligated to watch her back.

Cassian either didn't notice him watching or didn't care. Sleep probably didn't come as instantly as he made it look, but Bodhi suppressed a sigh and went back to staring at the ceiling.

From tomorrow onwards, they were going to have to start rebuilding, rethinking their lives and purposes. Now that the war wasn't comsuming them, they would have to find something else.

Cassian's jacket kept bristles of cold from forming at the back of his neck, and Jyn's tattered gloves, given to him a long time ago as a well-wish, had ensured throughout the day that no passing shrapnel or burst of fire had damaged the one natural hand he had left.

When he'd been flying, firing difficult shots and avoiding himself being hit, at a point he'd started chanting one of Chirrut's verses.

Bodhi bundled the parka up under his head and wrapped his arms and the rough sheet around his flightsuit. A tired, and hopeful, entirely hopeful, smile found its way to his face.

Yeah, it was going to be one mad run to pick up the pieces of the Empire and even more insane to get used to life without one single, driven purpose- but he felt, as he always felt, that his friends and the Force would be there to see him through.

* * *

 **Author's Note; Please tell me what you think!:) And I'm taking requests for fics in this AU, do feel free to drop an idea in the comments:)**

 **May the Force be with you.**

 **~Shaadia.**


	3. Duels with Loss and Victory (2 of 4)

They crashed into a wall of the tiny room, kisses turning feverish and hurried.

"I have to-" Cassian created distance between them. "I have to go-"

"Kriff your scouting run," growled Jyn, who'd reduced the gap again, and teased his sense of self-control with her breath just barely ghosting over his lips. "They have pilots to do that."

"They need more-"

Jyn captured his lips again, and despite himself his immediate response was to whimper.

" _I_ need more," she retorted.

He was wholly willing to surrender to that, and one more crash of her lips was all it took to erase the scouting run from his mind completely.

They were on Endor, or something like it. It was nighttime and there was illumination from the moon outside as well as the tail-lights of Alliance ships. Red, white, yellow. Most of the planet was green and brown, largely hidden by the state of semi-darkness.

"You're so good, Cassian," Jyn was saying while she trailed kisses down his neck. "You're so good for me."

Despite everything else and her hands at his hips, the words brought the moment to an abrupt halt.

He was not a good person.

He was not _good._

He didn't deserve anything the galaxy was giving him now, even though up until this moment the galaxy had only taken, and taken, and taken.

He was in the snowy fields of Fest again. Fest had always been an ice planet- if a lot less frigid than Hoth - but this was the season of winter, and he could tell. The wind was harsher than usual. A blizzard rumbled from somewhere behind him. He could only see white and blue, and the fur from his hood was getting into his eyes.

Cassian took several stumbling steps in a direction he only instinctively knew was further from danger. Further from the blizzard. Further from...

His left hand felt warm, suddenly. Like hot liquid of some sort was bubbling under it.

Eyes widening, he jerked the hand out from under his jacket. It was completely bathed in blood of the brightest colour he'd ever seen.

He knew somehow that he was a child again. The soaked hand was smaller, fuller, and didn't have the rough edges or calloused lines that spoke of how years were spent more so than time itself. He had no solid skin under his nails. The blood burned on his hand.

He lost his footing. He fell to the snow and it was cold, threatening, brutal like Hoth. There was even more blood on the crystallised plane of white, more than could've bled out when he'd broken his nose on impact.

With wind biting at his cheeks and clawing at his face, the boy struggled to his knees and looked around. White snow. Red blood. In a symmetric pattern.

Around him, the Alliance starbird.

His eyes felt like ice-blocks, frozen in place so the tears wouldn't come. There was more wind. Howling in his ears and creeping up his ribcage. Sending shivers along his arms, his neck.

Cassian looked up, arms curled tightly around his body, trying and failing to keep out the cold. There were dark shapes standing in his line of vision. They cleared out, and he could see silhouettes.

Faces from the six-year-old's future. Rebels. Dealers. Informants. People he'd trusted, relied on, betrayed or killed, among people who'd relied on him, trusted him, or tried to sell him out to the Empire. All he knew was that every one of those shared histories was tainted in with blood.

 _You're a spy. This is a rebellion. You have a purpose with us._

He recognised the voice. Somehow, he recognised the voice...

 _You're a spy. You'll have to do things you don't want to do. You're doing all of it for the cause_.

 _Get over it, Andor! You're no longer a child!_

Draven? General Draven?

The blizzard had caught up to him. White was flashing in his eyes. The blood on the snow had got carried with it. Violent swirls of red and white danced around him.

Snow and blood got in his eyes and he couldn't keep them dry anymore. This time, the tears came.

Something yanked sharp and fast at the back of his jacket, and he was pulled out of the blizzard. He was lying on solid ground again, but this time it was sand, and the sun was shining in his face.

An Imperial security droid was tending to his injuries. For a fleeting moment panic gripped at his heart, but then he remembered, realized, and started to breathe easy.

Kaytoo stopped what he was doing when he sat up. The droid's yellow-ring eyes bored into him distrustfully.

"You're a child," he said, brazenly.

Cassian wanted to speak, explain that he had no idea what was going on but that it was him, he was a friend, but none of the words came to him. They died on his tongue, strangled, and tears threatened to spill again.

The hulking droid got to his feet, throwing a shadow over him, and pointed an all too familiar blaster. "I am not programmed to save you."

Then he was an adult and in a different place. His back ached, his shoulders were grazed and there was a blaster wound in his side, visible through his thin shirt. One ear rang incessantly.

Two figures stumbled out from behind a wall -the walls of a well-funded Imperial holding cell- with their own wounds and unsteady legs. They collapsed as soon as they were shoved inside, and he heard the click of a door locking behind them.

He approached the newcomers on cautious fours, breath heaving, not trusting himself to stand upright. Blood and sweat mingled in his mouth. His side contracted painfully.

One of the figures looked his way and heaved a sigh of relief. His face was a jarred, bloodied mess, eyes cracked open to a bare minimum, lip and forehead split. But Cassian managed to recognise Bodhi.

 _What happened? Who did this to you?_

Tremors ran through his body, anger warping with fear and worry and nausea, making it difficult to choke out the words.

The other person turned over on her side, facing him. _Jyn_. He recognised the symptoms of torture chemicals, he recognized what chatterjuice and fever mixtures did to a human sentient. Wide, bloodshot eyes. Sunken cheeks. Lips cracked to the point of bleeding, unimaginably pale.

"Jyn," he said, inaudible, like a prayer.

Her eyes fluttered close.

Cassian didn't have the time to process this. A galaxy away, a cell door blasted inwards. Three figures stepped in through the lapping flames.

Bodhi was the one who scrambled to his knees and spoke. "Chirrut? Baze? Serchill?"

Cassian could only make out the sad, apologetic look on Chirrut's face- normally serene and unaffected, now framed by panic and failure- before half a garrison of 'troopers in flamesuits emerged behind them, blasters primed.

Suddenly they weren't in a cell anymore. Brilliant sunlight shone on his face, sand digged into his knees. The whole crew- no, more people, Leia was here, as were Sefla and Melshi and all the people who'd died on Scarif, and so was General Draven, and a dozen faces without names- surrounded. By the Empire. By 'troopers, walkers and officers in black uniforms. KX-series security droids stood methodically in between them.

A shadow crossed the sun, casting a cold darkness over the beach. He looked up knowing what he was going to see. Two Death Stars, larger than life, two prized investments of the Empire that they'd never blown out of the sky.

Emperor Palpatine's voice drowned out the noise of sea, the satisfied chuckles of the officers and the screeching sensation in his ears.

"After all you've done. All the damage you've wrecked and the imbalance you've brought to this galaxy. Your rebellion dies today."

"Empires don't last forever, Sith," spat Leia, and Cassian didn't know why, but the archaic term was fitting.

But Leia wasn't in a position to talk, and neither was he. He wasn't one to put on a brave front on the off chance it would make death look heroic. Instead he schooled his features, left his resting spy face. Death he could accept.

He only couldn't deal with the Rebellion losing the war.

Palpatine seemed to pause to consider which weapon he'd turn on them. He had two fucking Death Stars, after all. A difficult decision.

"Cassian," Jyn was at his side, looking healthy again, defiant as usual, staring at the sky above like she did not see the power the Empire had at its disposal. "Cassian, I love you."

He jolted awake.

The two-person cockpit was dark and a little chilly, red and green lights stationary on the dashboard console. One of the lights were blinking, though, and beeping faintly, about as perceptible as the disappearing traces of a dream.

Cassian sat up in his seat, groaning. He blindly reached across and turned the axel all the way down, making the noise stop. That's unhealthy cabin pressure dealt with. He squinted at the viewport window. They'd come out of hyperspace, and it had been a while, by the looks of it.

"Oh, you're awake," came a familiar mechanical voice, and he turned around with half-scrunched up eyes.

"Were you piloting?" he asked, because he wouldn't put it past his droid to get 'bored' of sitting in front of controls that he didn't have to operate.

Kay clanked over and took the pilot's seat. "I was not piloting. The ship was piloting itself. But if you're asking if I was seated in the pilot's chair while the ship piloted itself, then yes, I was seated here for the most part. How do you think we pulled out of hyperspace?"

Cassian pressed his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He could not deal with this now.

"Do we have the flagship's coordinates?"

Kay regarded him with eyes as judgemental as a droid's yellow orbs could look. "Are you fully awake yet?"

Why did he have to deal with this?

"Do we, Kay?"

"No," answered the droid primly. "As a matter of fact, we wouldn't be standing stationary in real space if the coordinates had been sent."

"You could've said that the first time," murmured Cassian, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he zipped his jacket up for additional warmth. He forced his breaths to fan out evenly. A bad dream didn't leave him shaken for long.

Still-

 _We're winning. Palpatine is dead. The Death Star is gone._

 _The Empire is coming after us with everything they have._

He crossed his arms at his chest, sunk back into a half-reclining position.

It wasn't real. The Death Star was gone. The Rebellion stood a better chance than it had in the past decade.

Jyn hadn't said she loved him.

"Scan for ships on our tail, Kay."

"Scanning. There is less than a five percent chance that we were followed by anyone through hyperspace, and a zero percent chance we were tracked through hyperspace."

 _Cassian, I love you._

"Scan complete. No insigniated ships within a radius of fifty, and no ships of any kind within a radius of forty nine."

"Nice to know your statistical analysis is still as accurate as ever."

If he didn't know better, he could've sworn the droid sniffed.

"My proficiency in the field I was programmed to specialise in will not decrease unless that particular function is overrun in a reprogramming, which you are obviously aware you did not do. Oh, the coordinates are coming in. Home I has added another layer of encryption."

Cassian sat up to reach for the dashboard keys. He entered in all six of the codes before the new one, which he had to thinking back to an earlier briefing to remember. The console beeped, and revealed a string of numbers that made sense from the jumble.

"Would you like to take over?" asked Kay. "I believe you have doubts about my proficiency in things I am programmed to do."

Cassian allowed himself a quiet laugh, some of the pressure from his findings in the scouting run, some of the pressure from the nightmare, lifting off his shoulders at last.

"Take us home, Kay."

* * *

 **Reviews are love! Another part coming very soon.**


	4. Duels with Loss and Victory (3 of 4)

**A/N: I'm sorry for the hiatus, but here's the next chapter! Prepare to board the Rebelcaptain Pain Train.**

 **(On a side note, for those of you who follow me on the Artemis Fowl fandom, I have a new Young Root fic up; do feel free to check it out!)**

* * *

 **Chapter Three (Duels with Loss & Victory)**

Early morning on Endor was much more pleasant without a battle raging in the skies and on the ground.

There were birdcalls that trilled from different directions, drifting down from the top of tall trees, and the occasional _yub yub_ of the planet's native inhabitants. A light chatter came from the ground below where a handful of rebels were awake and keeping themselves busy with the moving work. Crates of unused explosives and firearms were being hauled into light transports that would take them to the cruisers and freighters waiting over the planet's atmosphere. By noon they will have moved out, and they'd be fleeing the headless Empire until an opportunity to do more damage presented itself.

Bodhi thought he'd just enjoy the grainy caf in his hands and the fresh air of Endor's morning for now.

By the Force, it really was fresh and clean and it tasted like unpolluted water. The fumes of grenade smoke and blasterfire had dissolved to nothing. He couldn't quite wrap his head around any of it.

He looked back over his shoulder when he felt the floor of the small log cabin, wedged between the strong branches of a tree that touched the sky, dip slightly under his feet. Jyn emerged from inside, her hair tousled and shirt rumpled.

"Morning, sleepy-head," he said with a smile.

Jyn punched him in the shoulder but not hard enough for it to hurt.

"Why are you up so early? _How_?"

Bodhi considered something like I don't know, just knew it was time, but he remembered that Jyn had enough experience not to believe that. He wasn't really a heavy sleeper (although he had been, in a life before Bor Gullet) but he was without a doubt a stubborn one. He clung onto sleep like he was being paid to. On the missions they'd run together, Bodhi had never once woken up of his own accord.

"I took Cassian's jacket to sleep on," he admitted. "And he needed it in the morning, so..."

Jyn's expression shifted to a scowl. "And why did he have to get up so damn early?"

Experience had not effectively taught Bodhi that joking around with Jyn first thing in the morning was a dangerous idea. His lips turned upwards in a toothy grin. "Why, missed your early morning cuddles?"

He managed to duck fast enough to avoid the fist that came swinging his way, but spilt half of his caf over the railing in the process and bit back a wince as someone from below yelled a Huttese curse at him.

Jyn repeated the Huttese phrase with passion before passively-aggressively setting her elbows on the wooden rail beside him.

"Slept well?" she mumbled, in a uniquely _Jyn_ way that sounded hostile and friendly at the same time.

"No, not really," Bodhi stared into the green before them. Several similar ewok huts were perched in the tall trees, a few occupied by fellow rebels who hadn't woken yet.

Jyn squeezed his hand, and the hostility from before was gone. "It never gets easier," she said, almost to herself.

"I never thought it would," he slipped his fingers between hers and held tight. His fingers still jittered, from time to time, a haunting reminder of a torture he'd been put through a lifetime ago. If Jyn found his metal digits painful, she didn't show it, firming her grip instead. "Hey," she said, with no small amount of authority in her voice, enough to make him look. "We're going to be alright. Okay?"

He smiled a tired, half-convinced smile. But half-convinced was better than nothing, because not very long ago he wouldn't have believed it at all.

"Okay," he said.

* * *

The entirety of the Alliance body involved on Endor was packed onto Home I and another, smaller Mon Cala cruiser attached to it, leaving the forest moon behind before the location became a problem. Intelligence was already picking up Imperial transmissions, urgent calls and signals from one end of the galaxy to another, and news of response by an emergency fleet. The Emperor was dead and his Empire was throwing together everything it had left in a delayed attempt to crush out the rebellion. But the numbers were still uneven, and that made it too early to claim any kind of victory.

The cruiser was following strict radio silence, cloaking its trajectory through space. Hiding, waiting for a right chance that may come sooner or later, the moment too precarious to really decide.

The pathfinders and the pilots had mixed, switching spots in their respectively assigned quarters to socialise (allowed, but not to the extent of creating disorder in the quarter system), drink (against regulations) and fraternize (most definitely against regulations). Jyn and Bodhi had found a shared quarters that mostly drank.

They were more than alright with the alcohol going around. Even when they weren't partaking in any drinking, the general atmosphere of the room kept their minds off the war, the uncertain battles ahead, and Cassian's absence.

Cassian had left with Kaytoo immediately after the morning meal with instructions to scout the perimeter for Home I. The cruiser's ongoing policy of radio silence meant he couldn't get back to them until it was safe enough to send out a line of encrypted coordinates.

Normally, a mundane task such as scouting wouldn't get anyone worked up, but the Empire was everywhere and looking for rebel ships, and there was no guarantee a single light freighter that couldn't prove its identity wouldn't be blown out of space.

It was the fifth day after the battle of Endor when Jyn and Bodhi woke up in the company of three hungover rebels who refused to report for duty, and decided they'd request an extra round doing security to keep their minds occupied at night. Worry and boredom and restlessness were clawing at their walls and too much of time had passed. It was whatever that counted for evening in the artificial environment of the cruiser when a call from Kay came through.

Restless and world-weary as she was, Jyn's first instinct was to panic. Kay wouldn't call unless there was an emergency, unless his reprogrammer was being sent to medbay under a critical condition, or something unspeakable had happened, or there was an emergency- in her experience.

Jyn was already striding fast in the direction of the medical wing with Bodhi hot on her heels when she answered her comm.

"What happened?" she snapped into it, impatient, dread curling unpleasantly in her gut, hurried.

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"There is no emergency to speak of," answered Kay crisply, which forced Jyn to stop in her tracks. "Although the reasoning is acceptable, as eighty six percent of the times I have commed you in the past were emergency situations."

Jyn was conflicted between heaving a sigh of relief and laughing it off, and disconnecting the call before the droid got any more patronising. "So what's the problem?"

"There is no _problem_ ," said Kay, sounding as exasperated as any synthetic could. "I am calling to inform you that Cassian docked in Home I and is currently attending a confidential briefing. He asked me to inform you and Bodhi Rook. I assume you will tell him, on the sixty three percent chance he is not in your company right now."

Relief, then. It didn't escape Jyn's notice that Bodhi breathed a silent thanks to the Force once it sunk in that Cassian was alive and safe.

"Good to hear. Thanks, Kay."

"You're welcome," said the droid mechanically, because of course he didn't mean it. "I am also to inform you that, because Cassian was made aware of the disorderly situation with the barracks-assignment aboard this ship, he extends his invitation for the two of you to join his quarters. Although there is only one spare bunk."

Jyn met Bodhi's eye and a trace of the shit-eating grin he was holding back.

She tried her best not to outwardly scowl, because that would give him the victory he craved. "Alright, Kay. Tell him to meet us when he can?"

The droid replied in acknowledgement before terminating the call. Jyn turned around to look at Bodhi who was still- curse him, he looked so smug.

"What?" she quipped.

The pilot shrugged, terribly feigning innocence. "You want to take the spare bunk?"

Jyn rolled her eyes. "We can make do with the same arrangement as Endor, you know. It's nothing new."

"About that," Bodhi tilted his head. "Do you guys do that often? Sleep in the same bed?"

Her cheeks were _not_ colouring. They were _not_.

"We do if there's no other option. You know that."

"Cassian could've slept literally anywhere else that night."

Jyn huffed in irritation. "Like out in the open for Ewoks to step on?"

Bodhi pursed his lips in thought. She could see the cogwheels turning as he came up with something embarrassing and annoying in equal measures. Finally, his expression settled into a bright smile.

"You know, I'm okay with the barracks. Means I have people to beat at sabacc. Wouldn't have to intrude on you, either."

She treated him to a scathing glare. "Force's sake."

Bodhi was starting to back away, grin growing wider by the moment, which meant he was conjuring up the most annoying retort yet, while getting out of range for any attack that could follow.

This time round, Jyn only resigned herself to it and glowered. This she could see coming from a mile away.

Sure enough, when Bodhi's smirk couldn't grow any more pronounced, he delivered the final blow.

"You two could have a _much_ better night if I'm not there."

* * *

Cassian didn't turn up at the cruiser's sparse common area- the one altered to vaguely resemble a mess hall- during the night meal as expected, but he did send K-2SO to inform them that there were discussions going on that he couldn't afford to skip. It wasn't worry for his safety that caused an uncomfortable silence to stretch throughout the meal. If there were discussions, _urgent_ talks with those in Command, it definitely didn't spell anything pleasant for them. The Empire was closing in. Soon enough, they'd return to the fight, and pray their victory on Endor wouldn't be wasted.

Bodhi excused himself at one point, when called over to the table of a group of pilots. Not long ago Jyn would've felt uneasy being on her own in the company of so many rebels- but these were familiar faces by this point, and even if she didn't trust all of them, she knew there was no real danger aboard this cruiser. Nothing she couldn't handle, at least.

Bodhi hadn't returned by the time she finished her sparse meal, and she figured they'd see each other again in their shared barracks. He wouldn't worry unless she didn't turn up at night, and it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go.

Home I's corridors were white and clean and well-lit; she knew that whoever who was put on cleaning duty did their job exceptionally well because little else could keep them distracted from the terrifying reality of having a half-won war to finish off, an all-or-nothing battle looming on the horizon. While many passed around the alcohol smuggled aboard to keep themselves kicking, it wasn't everyone's preferred strategy for distraction.

She passed only a handful of sentient lifeforms on her way, and three or more droids. The corridors were at a cool but not cold temperature level, originally designed for the natives of Mon Cala but stripped of its factory setting of dampness in order to sit well with everyone else. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going. The mess hall had been full of whispers and mumbled rumours about the Empire, about what their oppressors had in store of them, and she hadn't had the patience to listen to it. To let it crawl under her skin, get into her head.

She stopped abruptly before a lit-up panel pointing in the direction of a few quarters, recognising one of the addresses.

Well. There was probably no point, and it would create work for the maintenence staff if she picked a lock, but she was seeking distraction just as badly as the rest of them.

Jyn turned into the corridor with the casual stride of someone who had every right to be there, giving the doors on either side cursory glances long enough to note their numbers. She'd turned around another passageway when she caught it, a shining colour of black against the star white background, and some small, irrational part of her screamed with relief.

She chided herself. There was absolutely no reason to celebrate. She'd already known he was alive and on-board.

"I see you're standing guard," she greeted the droid, who swivelled his head from his immense height to look down at her. "The meeting's over?"

"Jyn Erso," intoned Kay, in a tone of voice that somehow greeted her and regretted her presence at the same time. "I was instructed just ten minute ago to locate you, and inform you that the meeting was called to a stop." He made a deep, wiry sound akin to a sigh. "Cassian seems to have relegated me to the role of messenger droid. An utter waste of my capabilities. I don't see why he doesn't just send you a message, now that the communication ban has been lifted."

Jyn tilted her head, and tried her damnest not to smile. It hadn't been a long time, but she'd missed this. He wasn't about to hear that from her, though. "Is he in?"

"He is," Kay paused, "getting dressed, I believe."

Jyn's traitorous mind supplied images that she immediately repressed. "And you didn't inform me about the meeting because you felt it was...beneath you?"

If Kay could've snorted, that's what he would've done then. "No. There would be no point, because Cassian is planning on joining you at the mess hall. I suppose the logical thing to do would be to inform him right now that you're here."

Jyn stepped back. "Go ahead, messenger droid."

Kay treated her to what could be interpreted as a glare before keying in the code to the door and standing in the small space it left when it clicked open.

"Jyn Erso is here to see you," she heard him say. "Not that she specified the purpose of her visit, but there is an eighty nine percent chance she is here to see you, or rather she intended to see you on the chance that you were present in the first place. It might be wise to reconsider your decision to visit her at the mess hall."

There was no verbal response for a moment, and Jyn actually considered the possibility of Kay toying with her, before she heard Cassian's voice say, "Let her in, Kay."

Kay sounded disapproving. "I have not yet scanned the mess hall or Jyn's barracks for contamination. She could be carrying an infection."

Jyn scowled and started to tell him to go fry his circuitry, but the door was pulled open forcibly from the inside as she saw Cassian pointedly motion his droid to step aside.

Kay groused something along the lines of _don't come running to me when this backfires_ , but she didn't hear and didn't care, because Cassian was looking at her with a warm smile and like he'd been waiting a long, long time to see her again.

She smiled toothily, though with none of the bite she had given Kay. "Hi."

He opened the door wider in invitation.

"Let me scan her, at least," said Kay, ripping a hole through the tender moment.

Jyn gritted her teeth and stepped around him to allow herself entrance. "Scan this," she said, treating him to an offensive Rylothian gesture, before Cassian rolled his eyes- at her or at the droid, or both, she couldn't tell- before closing the door behind them.

She turned around in the dim lighting to take him in.

Had he lost a few pounds or was that her imagination? Cassian looked unbearably worn out- and the crease that dug into the space between his brows had flattened, a little, but she could tell it had lingered a while before now, perhaps since the meeting, or his mission. His scruff had grown more pronounced, and only now she noticed the light to his fresher was on- he might have been about to clean up. His frame was thin, as usual, but none of the lean muscle underneath showed through the shirt he was wearing, and the hollows of his cheeks looked deeper than usual.

An important, probably confidential discussion had just happened, and he had seen enough during his perimeter sweep. Again she found herself trying hard not to think of the Empire, of the shadow falling over them, the war this cruiser couldn't drift away from forever. She wanted to ask...but she didn't want to know, and didn't think it was the kind of conversation he was keen for either.

"You okay?" she asked instead. _Are you injured? Have you recovered from the things you witnessed?  
_  
"I'm alright," Cassian leaned back against the door. "You? I heard there's been...disorder on-board." His lips twitched a fraction.

She made a helpless but unapologetic gesture. "Quartermaster is the most pissed I've ever seen him. Nobody's sleeping in their right place, and too many confiscated bottles have disappeared. Bodhi's having tremendous fun with a sabacc deck."

Cassian's eyes softened. "So you're both fine. Good. I thought things would just be chaotic, and funny if you're on the right side, but..that's good."

She watched him again as a comfortable silence settled.

Kay would have made sure that he got something to eat, but it didn't look like he'd had much. There were dark circles around his eyes, the result of several sleepless nights. Again her eyes drifted down to this beard, to the blaster burn that had started to fade under his chin.

Cassian shifted slightly, and it occurred to her that she'd been staring. She forced her eyes back up, refusing to look embarrassed.

They hadn't talked about their kiss on Endor. Force, she had been the one to kiss him, and it had felt so right and safe in that moment, and it probably still would if she tried again, but...

Did he blame it on the alcohol she'd had? He had known, of course, that she wasn't drunk. He would've never pressed her if he thought as much. Still, he always seemed to have a hard time believing that something wasn't his fault, and after she'd excused herself to grab another drink from the ongoing celebrations, he would've thought it a clear message that she didn't want their...whatever it was to continue. And proceeded to blame himself.

She refused to be embarrassed about her concern, for her need to look him over and see if he was alright. However, memories of that night kept floating back, and her ears grew hot as she remembered the kisses they'd shared after the first one, with her practically sitting in his lap at one point and his hands roaming wherever they could reach.

Cassian was apparently thinking of the same thing.

"We don't have to," he managed to meet her eyes. Sincere, honest. "Talk about it, that is. We can...leave it behind. Forget it ever happened, if that's what you want."

 _If that's what you want.  
_  
The words were out before she knew it.

"And you?"

He shifted again, although his face betrayed no discomfort. How could he do that? Spies and their kriffing tricks.

"I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want, Jyn."

She pressed her lips tightly together, allowing only a bit of a humourless smile to show. "Democracy?" she joked.

Cassian mercifully let it slide, and changed the topic entirely. "We're entering another hyperspace lane tomorrow. There's a rendezvous, an unnamed moon, where there are backup fighters waiting for us."

Her world tilted on its axis before she registered the words. "So soon?"

He shook his head. "It's in the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim, territory the Empire hasn't charted yet. By my estimate it should take about two weeks to get there, and we're only going to launch an offensive once we've signed up more allies."

More allies. There was unsaid good news here and it wasn't going to be very soon, but the course would be set for a future without the Empire- or the Rebellion- soon enough.

Everything they'd been fighting for. A decisive moment that would either make every sacrifice worthwhile, or render countless rebel deaths ultimately useless.

Her gut twisted in a knot.

 _Chirrut. Baze. Serchill.  
_  
Very soon, she'd be fighting the decisive battle for _them_.

She was buzzing with nervous energy and vengeful anger and doubt and fear all at once.

 _One last stand,_ were the words nobody said out loud.

She needed to hit something. Spar. Yell at someone. Too much of energy and anticipation screamed in her veins and her bones, demanding to be let out.

"Jyn," said Cassian softly, sensing it, a gentle warning.

He didn't have time to react before her lips crashed into his, her fingers gripping roughly at the hollows of his cheeks, her body pinning him against the door. Her heartbeat was raw and untamed in her chest, and doubt...crushing doubt, a terrible what if weighed down her shoulders.

What if they lost? What if the sacrifices weren't worth it?

She translated every question and every terrible answer into the kiss, pushing roughly, biting his lips, and deepening it when fueled by his muffled groan. She tasted teeth and tongue before she caught the faint metallic tang of blood, and then that as well. He tried hard to keep up- or to hold back, submit to her control, but she found she didn't care which it was.

Cassian managed to break the kiss despite the lack of space given to him. He was pacing his own breaths as he moved her hands from his cheeks- shifting them to his shoulders- and adjusted to hold her own face. She must have looked feral- panting heavily, her emotions strewn everywhere- but he rested his forehead to hers gently and closed his eyes.

"We have a chance," he breathed. She listened, because she knew he didn't sugarcoat or make false promises. If Cassian was making an assurance, she had to listen. "We have a chance, Jyn."

Force knew how she managed to find her voice, or hear his words over the sound of her pulse in her ears.

"Small chance?"

He carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Not so bad."

She dropped her head to his shoulder and took in a shuddering breath. Breathed in and out. In and out. Felt her spiked heartrate come down to normal levels.

Screwed her eyes shut and swore.

"Jyn?"

She pushed away, taking a stumbling step back from him. Pinched the bridge of her nose and swore viciously.

 _What have I done?  
_  
She opened her eyes without meaning to, caught a glimpse of him when it was everything she was trying to prevent.

Cassian was looking concerned, like he was about reach out and say something to put her nerves at ease, but his appearance served as a painful reminder of the new reason for those nerves.

His hair was a mess from her fingers clawing through it. There was a fresh smear of blood on his lower lip, and his...Force, she'd even crumpled his collar, pulled apart the velcro straps keeping it in place.

She took several halting steps back.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, unable to tear her gaze away now. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

He reached out. "You don't have to-"

"Kriff." She stared at him even as she darted to a side, her back hitting the door solidly. "I-I kriffed up, Cassian, I didn't mean to-"

He shook his head too fast. "You didn't. You don't have to apologise, I...I really don't mind."

She reached behind her back, found the door release. "I'm sorry."

"Don't. I'm here if you need something-"

"No. No, that's not okay," she shook her head, hurriedly feeling for the...the lock clicked open, and she was out before she could open the door fully. She ignored Kay's calculating look, brushing past him in a hurry, and breaking into a run to turn around the corridor before the door opened again.

* * *

Bodhi woke up grumbling about a pebble that had somehow found its way into his sock, and once she had bemusedly pulled the offending sock off (he hadn't been willing to budge, and in turn run the risk of waking up fully), he'd switched to grumbling about how cold it had been in the night.

"I mean, can you imagine?" Bodhi had mumbled into his pillow. "That kriffing pebble and the cold? It was such a crappy night."

"Physical evaluation at 0600," reminded Jyn, knowing it wasn't a good enough reason.

Bodhi pulled the thin sheet all the way over his head. "Go away."

"Bodhi."

"I'll come later."

Jyn sighed. "You'll miss breakfast as well."

The pilot grumbled something unintelligible, the sound barely reaching her ears. He curled in tighter around himself and started trying hard to fall back asleep. Jyn decided to leave him at it.

The common area being used as a mess hall was on a low light setting, giving it the feel of early morning hours in sparingly lit indoors. It was starting to crowd up. Ground officers fought over the only three caf machines and pilots flocked together in large groups, giddy and noisy before the day even began. It was like this in the mornings; the common areas swarmed with life and spirit, people had work to do and duties to report for, everyone had a plan in mind. But once a day-cycle was reaching its end, when people started gathering for a less-than-grandiose dinner and bed, the noise and the friendly greetings faded into an endless background chatter of rumours, whispers and fears, about the war, and the enemy closing in on them.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. They were all affected. It was, after all, the reason she'd gone and done what she'd done.

The rhodian standing in line beside her treated her to a puzzled look when she pinched the bridge of her nose.

 _Kriffing great.  
_  
She didn't even register the colour of the mush she served, grabbing her tray and looking around the hall for an empty corner.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

The corner she usually shared with Bodhi had been filled in, and she wasn't about to go sit at the pilots' table without him. Han Solo was entertaining Kes Dameron's Pathfinders, and the mess was _loud_. There were only a few free spots that she could make out. An empty seat next to a Gammorean. A row that sat before a senior officer. An empty corner, save for...

Was the Force playing some sort of joke on her? This had to happen, and on the day Bodhi was unavailable, too?

Jyn forced herself to take steadying breaths, bracing herself for a confrontation that she deserved. She could keep avoiding him for as long as they were aboard this cruiser with few hiding places, or she could apologise right now, soon enough to count, and swear it would never happen again.

And if he didn't want to see her now, she would get the message.

Cassian didn't look up until she dropped her tray before him.

"Got a minute?" she asked in an unfortunately strained voice.

He blinked, as if surprised from blank thoughts or absent thinking- which wasn't possible, he didn't do absent thinking- before his expression schooled itself and he said, as professionally as though this was going to be an everyday conversation between two peers, "Go ahead."

She sat down and didn't look at him. Not for all of sixty seconds.

And then because Jyn wasn't used to circling around an issue or softening a blow first, she followed habit and barreled straight through the bantha in the room.

"I wasn't thinking clearly last night."

Cassian looked from his tray, but his expression revealed nothing. She tried not to wince, and continued regardless in the most matter-of-fact voice she could muster.

"Everything that's happening right now, it's a lot to take in. I was just...annoyed with all of it. I shouldn't have projected that on to you. It was stupid and selfish of me. So." She straightened in her seat. "I'm sorry. Can we forget it ever happened?"

Cassian didn't say anything or change his expression for the longest while, during which time she slowly started to regret this course of action, and come up with excuses to talk her way out of...this. Come back later better prepared. Start the apology all over again.

And then he shrugged his shoulders.

"If that's what you want."

She frowned, minutely. Hadn't he said the same thing earlier? And a neutral reaction was not a good reaction. She didn't want...she didn't want them to be on bad terms, she wanted _him_ to readily forget it even if he couldn't forgive her, but she had to do much better than a neutral reaction.

"And that isn't what you want?"

Cassian looked a dangerous kind of calm, non-threatening yet somehow ominous in a way that did not spell good news. "What do you think?"

If she was caught completely off guard by the question, she refused to show it.

" _I damn hear hurt you_."

"I wonder why you think that I mind."

Jyn shook her head. "No. No, this doesn't- look, that's not what I- Cassian. I did something stupid, a mistake, and I don't want it making things hostile between us. It was stupid and I'm sorry. What would it take...what do I have to do?"

The mess hall was loud enough to drown out their voices so the nearest table wouldn't hear, but their private space seemed to have gone eerily quiet.

"Was that all it was?" asked Cassian plainly. "A stupid mistake?"

She sputtered. "Yeah, well- _obviously_. I wouldn't just...I wouldn't just _assault_ you on purpose, I wasn't thinking right."

He straightened conclusively. "I see."

Something in his voice hinted that this was about as far as he was willing to discuss, and the floor was closed for anything else. But she didn't like it. The I see sounded too final, and not in the way she'd hoped.

"Is there something bothering you?" she blurted. "I mean. Other than...other than that, of course."

He looked up at her and then back down at his food without comment. She got the message.

They didn't talk while they each finished the food in front of them. The silence felt uncomfortable, enough to make her restless and fidgety, but Cassian didn't give anything away. The quiet coming from him would seem friendly were it not for the circumstances.

He was going to say something- and when he held her gaze, she could see that there was no anger in his eyes, only...resignation, although she couldn't tell why, and it looked like he'd already forgiven her and was about to say so, but another tray plunked down beside hers and the moment was gone.

"'Mornin'," mumbled Bodhi, who barely avoided dropping his face into the mush when he sat. "I don't want to be here. Lence kicked me out of the room. Hi, Cass."

And then Cassian looked as if he'd completely forgotten their conversation just now.

"Bad night?"

Bodhi dragged his palm across his face and groaned as though hungover. "The worst. There was this kriffing pebble in my sock, and it was so cold."

"That must've been a nuisance."

"You have no idea." Bodhi looked at him through bleary eyes. "What about you? Heard you've been busy since you got back."

Cassian shrugged. "It's routine, really. The summons weren't special, they just needed a report."

Bodhi, like Jyn, knew him well enough to figure that that was probably a cover story, but in his sleep-deprived state took it at face value.

"Good to hear." He considered the food before him. "I'm going to go get a cup of caf. Make sure my food doesn't get stolen."

Jyn expected Cassian to say whatever he'd been about to say just as soon as Bodhi was out of earshot, but Cassian graciously slid a full cup of caf across the table instead.

"Save your time. It's a big crowd over there."

Despite his semi-conscious state Bodhi grinned broadly and grabbed it up. "Force, you're a lifesaver! Thanks!"

Cassian smiled wryly. "Don't mention it."

Jyn closed her eyes and held back a frustrated sigh. She had to know, preferably soon, but they could hardly talk about it with Bodhi present. It would bother her peace of mind for the rest of the day, and when she eventually did get Cassian alone...then what? Would his patience have run out? Would he still be willing to listen?

"Barracks are a mess," Bodhi was talking animatedly now that he'd had his first two shots of caf. "I mean, ours are okay, but sometimes they switch with other people without any warning and _those_ people are always drunk or good at snoring."

"How rotten."

"It sucked," agreed Bodhi, after another gulp. "But we have a solution now, yeah?"

Jyn had to split her attention between Cassian's expression, looking for a sign that would give him away- and Bodhi's wide shit-eating grin.

"I call dibs on the spare bunk," he declared, and she had to fight back the urge to hit him.

But if Cassian found the obvious implication distasteful, he didn't show it. "Okay."

Bodhi tried and failed to hide his smirk behind the rim of his cup. Cassian raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Jyn wanted to bury her face in the table, but it would be undignified, and so she only sat straight refusing to give the pilot the satisfaction of her irritation.

Bodhi seemed to do most of the talking for the rest of the meal, though.

* * *

"Whatcha standin' around looking prissy for? Are you soldiers or prissy princesses?"

If the recruits in the room strived to continue their exercises, it was because of Kes Dameron's yelling and not their own iron wills to prove themselves. Jyn watched the jab-straights and twisting push-ups with an impassive, assessive eye. She only broke her neutral facade to glare at anyone who fell short in the routine.

She paired recruits up with opponents that would render more disadvantage in terms of height and build, stonily explaining to anyone who dared to ask that in the real world, you didn't get to pick your opponent. Humans and nonhumans who wouldn't understand the others' anatomy. Older recruits with rookies. There were nine matches happening in the room, even if the space provided wasn't sufficient and there were often blunders and mishaps. Anybody with a year's worth of sparring practice would know how to manage, but most of the people in training today hadn't been around before Hoth. New additions carefully screened and picked off various worlds, because the rebellion needed to raise its numbers in preparation for a decisive point in the war.

When that point came, Jyn- with a little help from Dameron, who didn't have a lot going on with his wife being on a supply-run- had to ensure they'd last on the field. At least long enough to make a worthwhile sacrifice.

So today she was merciless, rewarded insubordination with more exercise, told recruits to step away from their assigned partners so she could take them instead. The Alliance was running on limited resources, so she refrained from sending anyone to medbay, but still hurt them enough for the bruises to last days. Even Kes showed sympathy after some point; Jyn only promised to stop once three punches had been landed on her.

The session paused at what passed for midday, giving the recruits an hour to breathe, before starting again to last until night. Eventually the room cleared out, and Kes found out his wife had returned, leaving Jyn with her own thoughts and a punching bag.

She didn't think as she laid blow after blow on the leathery sack, worn by years of use and Hoth's weather. Threw tight-fisted punches. Aimed for the sides and kicked. She was tired after the day's labour, but time alone to punch something was a privilege that she was going to make use of.

She objectively did _not_ think of the Empire. She did _not_ think about the war, or wielding a blaster and running out onto the field. She didn't think of Hoth or Endor, and most certainly did _not_ think of Cassian.

Several loud thuds, thumps. The sound of rushing air as her foot connected with the bag. Her own rapid breaths.

Sweat beaded on her brow and didn't stick for long, rolling down drenched skin at a rate. Every part of her body hurt, but she'd never felt as alive as in these moments, using her fists and feet to _fight_. She'd be terribly sore by the end of the night. It would feel brilliant.

Jyn was slowing and coming to the warm-down stage of her exercise when she felt more than noticed a presence by the door. The doors on Home I could open soundlessly, and she hadn't locked it. She kept right at her activity. If it was Kes, he'd collect whatever he'd left behind and leave without disturbing. If it was one of the recruits, they'd scurry off soon. If it was Bodhi, he would wait it out.

She was panting more heavily than she ever remembered by the time her body couldn't take any more, and she let her arms loosen by her sides when she caught the flailing bag and turned.

Cassian looked up to meet her eyes, only to immediately look away and clear his throat.

"Do you have a moment?"

She couldn't get her chest to stop heaving with each laboured breath, so she simply nodded once. Let go of the bag and walked to the other corner of the room, where there was a bar.

"Take your time," said Cassian casually, switching on a datapad in his hands. He leaned back more accomodatingly on the wall, keeping his eyes trained on the screen and not in her direction.

She took her time.

Her muscles ached and protested with each stretch, but she was nothing if not flexible, so she could work through the exhaustion to get it done. She couldn't help slipping a glance or two at her visitor, though.

It was entirely possible he'd been standing there long before she'd seen him. Even now she could tell that whatever he was reading in his hands didn't have his undivided attention, and he was being polite enough not to stare at the expanse of skin her stretches revealed.

She grabbed a towel off the bar and wiped her face with it, making her way forward.

He turned the datapad over, looking at her instead. She could tell that, for a single second, he made an observation.

Her skin would've been flushed red, or at least a very dark pink, sweat making it slick and glistening. Her breathing had become less erratic, but her chest still rose and fell a little with the effort. Her muscles were sore and prominent.

If the image was too much for Cassian Andor to handle, it didn't show.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, throwing her off slightly.

Jyn blinked, but it was more about the sweat still in her eyes than surprise, and shook her head. "No."

He shifted his weight onto his other leg, but his expression remained casual. Not friendly, not how it usually was- but- good enough.

"Do you want to?"

She considered regarding him with a raised eyebrow, but he can't have approached her after all this time today to ask if she was hungry.

"Yes."

Cassian nodded, and turned on his heel, but looked over his shoulder and for several awkward moments seemed to be contemplating his next move.

"Walk with me?" he asked finally.

She did, without speaking a word.

He led them through the sterile white corridors of Home I, a Major with his second-in-command following stoically at his heels. Or was it partner? On the field, they were equals. But the records listed him as her superior, and that was what everyone who didn't know them probably thought, it was how they looked to the unobservant eye- although not to anyone who'd been in the rebellion long enough, either.

There were throngs of rebels headed in the opposite direction, to the night meal- and it took Jyn a few seconds ro register that they weren't headed the same way. She almost asked- but tamped down the urge just in time and decided to simply see where this was going. Let the puzzle figure itself out.

Cassian took two or three turns, the last one down a corridor she'd never gone through before, until they stopped at a stark white door that would've blended with the walls were it not for a sign that read _AUTHORISED PERSONNEL_ _ONLY_. There was a lock with- _you've got to be kidding me-_ white keys that had thin grey numbers.

Cassian reached for the lock, but hesitated.

Now she really did raise an eyebrow at him. He turned around to face her.

"Are you okay with this?"

Her eyebrow went up a notch. "With what?"

Cassian gestured at the locked door. "I thought we should talk. I mean, we don't have to. You don't have to say yes. I just want to fix whatever...I want to explain myself."

She felt her stance unconsciously relax, felt her face soften. He wanted to fix this. It shouldn't have surprised her, but she was still relieved that he wanted to salvage their friendship.

"I think I'm the one who needs to explain myself," she said quietly. He only looked at her, for a second, before shaking his head and entering in a code to open the door.

He let her in before him, and her breath caught.

Stars. Not the same expressionless picture of white dots on black that they'd caught glimpses of from the small viewports of Home I, but stars, real and bright and big. The viewport that greeted her covered the entirety of a wall, immersing her in the picture, drawing her in...and there was more, too, in the form of a distant nebula that bled a brilliant shade of red into the star-stained darkness, and she had never been so awed by the galaxy's free space as she was now.

When she finally did blink and assess the rest of the surroundings, she realized that the room was a lounge of sorts, and a tastefully decorated one at that. There were five different sets of in-built tables with plush, beige-coloured seats that either stood by themselves, cube-shaped, or connected to another, framing the tables, crescent-shaped. The other three walls were the usual sterile white of the rest of the ship, except each supported a painting of various blue hues.

 _Mon Cala,_ she realized belatedly.

The table closest to the viewport held two trays, the only thing about this room that struck her as familiar. Food from the mess.

"It's a lounge for those in the higher ranks," explained Cassian, while they walked to the table that had been set. She didn't know what to say. "But it doesn't get used so often these days. You can put in a request to sort of...book it."

Jyn nodded dumbly. Her gaze kept drifting to the viewport and back again to his face.

She sat behind the table with the glass to her right, and he took the opposite end. There was a moment of quiet.

Cassian was looking at her like he was waiting for her to say something, and she realized she hadn't said at word since they walked in.

"It's...nice."

His lips pulled back only a fraction, not even a half smile, before it was gone again. But he didn't look hostile, just...casual. Polite. Like this was a normal discussion and with a person he didn't know too well, but was neverthless willing to associate loosely.

"Quiet, too," he agreed.

And then she got it. Her assessment was wrong- he was not viewing this situation with cool nothingness. He wasn't just being tokenly polite, or treating this conversation as a professional affair.

If Cassian had wanted to talk to her on a professional level, he would've done it at the training room, or sought her out in one of the corridors. If he'd wanted to talk on a personal level, he would've just done it at the night meal, with Bodhi present or not. _This_ was not normal. Not something that had happened before. Chances are he wanted to have a conversation the likes of which they hadn't ever had before.

But why not her quarters, or his, or the empty training room? Why go this length?

"Are you okay with this?"

Jyn snapped back to the present with the note of doubt and concern in his voice.

He was looking at her with his eyes. Really looking, with those warm, ernest brown eyes of his.

She managed a smile that may have looked off-kilter.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay. Um. Why is...what do you want to talk about?"

Cassian sighed, his shoulders dropping a little. His mask of indifference- of pretense- was gone now, and he looked...tired. Tired and apologetic. Guilty, even.

She felt a frown coming on. He wasn't supposed to feel guilty _or_ apologetic.

"This," said Cassian. He paused. "Us."

"Us," Jyn echoed, not fully registering the words.

He averted his eyes. "If you want...if you want there to be an us. If you don't, you don't have to- we don't have to talk about it."

Jyn felt her heartbeat pick up. _Kriff_.

It was too soon. They were going somewhere she didn't want to name, and it was...he was...

How could she answer a question like that?

Cassian seemed to understand. "It's okay," he said, so casually that if she hadn't known him she would've really believed he'd grown unconcerned. He gestured at her untouched tray. "You said you were hungry."

She shook her head too fast.

"Cassian, wait."

He regarded her with what looked like mild curiosity, but she could tell his nerves were scrambled.

She struggled for words. "We need to talk. About Endor. And last night."

"I don't want to make things strange between us," said Cassian, and she could tell it was honesty. "If you don't feel the same way, we can just...go back to how it was. Before. If you'll forgive me and forget this ever happened?"

Jyn blinked. Her heart was thumping even more rapidly in her chest now, somehow, set off by a combination of a very few words. "How do you...feel?"

She didn't want to hear it. But she had to. Somehow she felt she had to.

Cassian took in a breath, with almost utmost subtlety. He had expected the question.

"Jyn, last night when you...when it happened, you said it was because you were angry. Not thinking straight, just wanted an outlet to express it."

She listened to his words and her own heartbeat in her ears.

"I didn't like that explanation. It was just...not what I was hoping to hear, and if I acted like a karking nerfherder in the morning today, that was why," he laughed self-deprecatingly. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

Jyn didn't know how she managed to find her voice. "What were you hoping to hear?"

Again, he smiled in a self-deprecating manner, and she didn't miss the embarrassed flush to his cheeks. But it was mostly apology and guilt that came from him. "That you did it because it was me. That...when there was bad news, you wanted me there with you. I wanted it to be because you come to me if you ever needed comfort, or reassurance, or..." He broke off, shaking his head. "It was stupid. I'm sorry, Jyn. It was selfish and stupid of me to want that."

She could only stare, several conflicting emotions in her head, her thought processes a mess. It was hurting him to say this. Breaking him, really. Cassian Andor didn't let people have parts of him. Yet for her he had lowered every in-built defense and spoken a devastatingly honest, unbridled truth.

 _If you don't feel the same way.  
_  
He was in deep. Very deep.

She couldn't run away from this. Even if she summoned up her stength and did, it would always weigh heavily on her conscience. That she'd left the one person who'd welcomed her home. That she'd broken Cassian.

There was no way she could answer him without saying the wrong thing, and fucking it up entirely.

When her voice finally did come, it sounded choked.

"I'm sorry."

He didn't look like he hadn't anticipated it.

She reached across the table, from around her untouched tray, to lightly take his wrist. His expression was calm, but she could feel his pulse thrumming under the pads of her fingers.

"Don't be," he said, with so much of resigned understanding that she felt tears prick at her eyes.

She leaned across the table and closed the gap between them, and it was nothing like the previous night.

Cassian kissed her like it would be the last time he did it, with acceptance and understanding and reverence that made her digits shake and her lips tremble. In turn she kissed him like she wanted to keep this memory with her forever, and she did, she really did. But it would be a painful memory.

She sighed into his mouth and he bit into her bottom lip, taking care to be gentle. She tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss.

But Cassian didn't probe her mouth with his tongue, and instead pulled away, holding the sides of her face. He had a sad half-smile on his lips.

"Thank you," he breathed. "For telling me."

Her throat felt parched. "Yeah. I...this doesn't change anything, Cassian. We're still a team, you know. Partners."

He drew back, but their hands were still joined.

"Partners," he agreed.

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, angst. Cliffhanger? That's a favourite too.**

 **Thanks for reading, and remember that reviews** **motivate this writer to Get Stuff Written!**


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